


The Letter

by samoosifer



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kinda fluffy???, M/M, Post-Serum, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky - Freeform, banker!bucky, bookshop assisstant!steve, both his original arms, bucky has long hair, gotta build myself back up to writing that shit, idk - Freeform, kinda not???, no smut unfortunately, stucky au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-12 09:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7929016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samoosifer/pseuds/samoosifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Bucky stood before Steve, wondering how the fuck he was going to explain what he'd done, he knew that he only had himself to blame. After all, it was his eyes that had read the letter. His fingers that had hand written a reply. His god damn money that had paid for the stamp, stuck it on the envelope and sent it off with no chance of ever getting it back. </p><p>No. This was all Bucky's fault and now he had to deal with the consequences; simultaneously breaking Steve's heart and his own. </p><p>or</p><p>the 'you sent a love letter to my address but your ex doesnt live here anymore and i drunkenly replied and now youre asking to meet up again oh fuck AND you're the cute person that works at the bookshop around the corner and you come in to deposit cash at the bank that i work at and oh man you're cute. do i know you from somwhere?' au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Letter

In the beginning, Bucky wasn't entirely sure how he had gotten himself into this situation. How he had managed to fuck up so much. With Steve standing in front of him looking just as beautiful and nervous as the first day Bucky saw him. If Bucky thought back hard enough, he could pinpoint the exact moment that had gotten him to this situation. He felt that Natasha had a lot of blame in all this. After all, it was her that had egged him on through the entire thing. 

But as Bucky stood before Steve, wondering how the fuck he was going to explain what he'd done, he knew that he only had himself to blame. After all, it was his eyes that had read the letter. His fingers that had hand written a reply. His god damn money that had paid for the stamp, stuck it on the envelope and sent it off with no chance of ever getting it back. 

No. This was all Bucky's fault and now he had to deal with the consequences; simultaneously breaking Steve's heart and his own. 

_Four weeks earlier._

“… And so Danny said I should take it up with Nick and I told her she can take it up the ass… I said she can take it up the ass… Bucky, are you even listening to me?” 

Bucky jerked his head up and looked at Paul blankly. “Huh?” 

“I was telling you a funny story and you weren't even listening.” He stated, looking slightly pissed off. But only slightly. 

“Sorry. I zoned out. I'm so fucking tired today.” Bucky sighed, returning to his slumped position over his desk. 

“Nat keep you up all night?” Paul asked knowingly, complete with nudges and winks. 

“Dude, really?” Bucky looked at him and rolled his eyes. 

“Just trying to cheer you up. We still have one more hour to go. Would be nice if you were a bit more awake.” Paul grumbled before his eyes lit up. “Your boy will be in soon.” 

Bucky straightened up and couldn't help but smile. “Oh yeah, I forgot. It's Monday.” He said happily. 

“How do you forget it's Monday? It's the first day of the week.” Paul shook his head, shifting on his feet as the phone started ringing. Bucky and Paul both reached for the phone eagerly, desperate for something to do. Paul beat him to it and practically sang into the reciever. 

“Goooood afternoon, Westpac Glenfield, how can I help?” Paul said, slapping at Bucky who had started silently mimicking Paul, holding a pretend phone to his ear. “No, the banks will be closed this weekend… I believe most banks are closed on the weekends, unfortunately… Uh- yes, the ATM's will all be up and running… No it's- they're computers. There-… No, there's no one inside them feeding the money through… Yup… Just machines… All right… You have a good day, Ma'am.” 

As soon as the phone was back in the holder, they both burst out laughing, bent over and struggling to get air in their lungs. “Oh my good god.” Bucky gasped, clutching desperately at his sides. 

“She sounded about in her eighties, bless her.” Paul said gleefully. “Oh man, that has just made my day.” 

“Same here.” Bucky grinned, wiping the stray tear from the corner of his eye. 

“Yours just got better.” Paul said, nodding to the front doors where the love of Bucky's life had just walked in.

“Oh, there is a god.” Bucky raised his hands dramatically in a 'hallelujah' way before dropping them to his sides to become professional again. The tall blonde man walked in, looking around casually as he got in line. He spotted Bucky staring and smiled at him, prompting Bucky to blush and look away as fast as possible. 

“Go talk to him.” Paul elbowed him in the ribs.

“No.”

“Why not?” Paul elbowed him again. Harder. 

“Because, I just need to take a moment to admire the view.” Bucky said, tilting his head to take in the man's beautiful ass. 

“You're disgusting.” Paul shook his head. “Objectifying the poor man like that.” 

Bucky snorted. “As if you don't do it to every damn woman that comes in wearing a skirt.” 

“Touche.” Paul commented, keeping silent after that, deep in thought as if he had never realized just how many women he objectified. Bucky was secretly hoping this was a big enough revelation for him to be at least slightly more respectful towards women. He wasn't the worst guy out, and Bucky got along with him, but occasionally he would make an extremely derogative and sexist joke. Bucky liked a laugh just as much as the next guy, but as someone who had a tonne of strong female figures in his life, he could only pretend to laugh so much before he had to call Paul out on his bullshit. 

Bucky stared dreamily at the man's back, taking in the tight jeans, the back muscles in the too tight black tee that had tour dates for some band that Bucky didn't know. He wished he knew. He wished he knew everything about this man. Except he didn't. Because he was too chicken shit to go and talk to him. 

For the past eight Monday's, he'd come in at four o'clock on the dot to deposit the cash into his work's account. Bucky could remember that first Monday like it was yesterday. He'd come in with his boss looking nervous as hell at the responsibility he had been given. Wearing the same jeans and a bright blue t-shirt to match his eyes. Bucky had been coming out of the staffroom and had almost walked into him. That had been it. He'd been gone after that. 

Every Monday afternoon was the highlight of Bucky's life. His friends knew. Natasha, his flatmate, knew. His god damn parent's knew. It was ridiculous. Bucky knew that if he didn't do something then someone would. He was beginning to panic that Paul was going to do something. Every Monday he would do his best to get Bucky to talk to the man but to no avail. Bucky would either become busy or just outright refuse. 

“Seriously, Buck, if you don't go say something, I will.” Paul sighed. I'm sick of seeing you pine.” 

“Paul, please don't do anything. I'm begging you.” Bucky looked at him seriously.

Paul raised an eyebrow at him and before Bucky could stop him, he had darted out from behind the desk and was rushing over to the deposits desk. He quickly whispered to Danny, the attendant at the desk, before nodding at her knowingly and returning to his station next to Bucky. 

“What did you do?” Bucky stared at him in shock, his eyes darting over to Danny again. The man had almost reached her. There was only one person to be served before him. Bucky started to panic. What if Danny was going to tell him? Except wouldn't Paul just automatically tell the man himself? It would be faster and more direct. 

“Just watch. You're going to talk to him.” Paul said simply, trying not to smile. 

The man reached the desk and started talking, holding up the cash bag from his work. Danny smiled at him apologetically, talking and pointing to the couches near Bucky's counter. Fuck. The man turned around to look at the couches before looking back at her, probably asking why the fuck he had to sit down and wait. Danny was shaking her head, pointing at the couches again. 

Bucky quickly turned away as the man turned around and left the line, walking to the couch and sitting down with a huff. He was so close to Bucky, it would be so easy for Bucky to just start talking to him. Paul nudged him yet again, raising his eyebrows at Bucky, silently daring him to say something. Bucky let out a sigh and finally did what he'd wanted to do for weeks. 

“Long day?” 

The man turned and smiled at Bucky weakly. “You have no idea. So busy.” 

“Yeah? What do you do?” Bucky asked, willing himself to relax. The man's voice was so velvety and nice. It instantly made his stomach do somersaults. 

“I work at the book store around the corner. My boss promoted me and put me in charge of closing up on Monday's so I'm on my own for the last two hours and I have to deposit cash here. For some reason, I can't do that today though. Any idea why?” The man raised an eyebrow at Bucky. 

“I- uh- parts of the system are down. Can't deposit cash into business accounts at the moment.” Bucky lied, hoping like hell it was plausible. 

“Oh well. Nothing you guys can do about it, I guess.” The man sighed, relaxing further into the couch. 

Bucky felt terrible. The man probably just wanted to go home to his girlfriend or whatever. Instead, he was being forced to wait just so Bucky could engage him in a boring conversation and yet, he was being so nice and understanding about it. “Sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for? Unless you're the technician and you're fucking around by pretending to work for the bank?” The man raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk on his face as if he knew exactly why he was sitting down talking to Bucky instead of walking back to his work already. 

“No, I just- you know, on- behalf of- the bank. I'm uh, I'm sorry.” Bucky stammered out, feeling his face turn a furious red. Behind him, he could hear Paul struggling to keep his laughter in. Bucky blindly kicked his leg out behind him, catching Paul in the shin. 

“Well thanks.” The man smiled widely, showing off some perfect looking teeth. God, the man was just stunning in every way. 

“So… You got a girlfriend?” Where the hell had _that_ come from?!

“Uh no. Just got out of a long relationship. Kind of. It was a while ago but uh, messed me up...” He trailed off as he frowned. “Sorry. I don't know why I told you that...” 

“No! No, it's fine. I don't even know why I asked.” Bucky shook his head, feeling even more embarrassed. “Uh, it looks like you can deposit your cash now.” 

The man looked around to where Danny was making kissy faces at Bucky, abruptly stopping and smiling at him. “Nice talking to you.” The man stood up and winked at him before turning his back on him and returning to Danny's desk. 

Bucky turned to Paul and half collapsed on the desk, letting out a quiet groan. “Fuck.”

“Relax, you were fine.” Paul laughed quietly. “But um, just so you know, I'm sorry.” 

Bucky lifted his head and looked at Paul blankly. “For what?” 

“On behalf of the bank, I'm sorry.” Paul's face cracked into a grin as Bucky punched his arm lightly. “Oh, your boy is leaving. He's waving at you and blowing kisses.” 

Bucky spun around and almost fell over at the sight of the man's ass in the air as he bent over to pick up whatever he had dropped. “Have I ever told you how much I hate you?” 

He stood up and glanced around, his face flushed. He caught sight of Bucky and gave a small wave before high tailing it out of the bank. Bucky let out a loud groan, sending praise up above at the fact that there were no customers. 

“Did you get his number then?” Danny asked, leaving her desk to join them at their own. 

“What? No. He just got out of a relationship.” Bucky shook his head. “Even if he hadn't, I wouldn't have gotten his number… Come to think of it, I didn't even get his name.”

“Oh my god, you're ridiculous.” Danny shook her head. “Is it almost time to close?” 

“Few more minutes.” Paul sighed. 

“Fuck. I want to go home now.” Bucky whined, letting out a loud yawn. He stood upright suddenly as their boss and coincidentally, Danny's father, Mike Wheeler walked out of his office, talking into his phone. Danny quickly jumped back to her desk, smiling cheekily at her father. He ended the call and looked at the three of them.

“All right! Barnes and Linctus! You two can go home. Danny? In my office now, please.” 

“Ooh, Danny's in trouble.” Paul sang, signing off his computer as Bucky did the same. “Danny's gonna get grounded.”

“Shut up, dick.” She shook her head, following her father back into his office. 

Bucky and Paul grabbed their things from out the back before heading outside, locking the door behind them so no one could go in while no one was out the front. They stood out in the street for a minute, checking their phones but not actually talking. Once Bucky had finished checking his notifications, he slipped his phone in his pocket and pulled out his car keys. “I'll see you tomorrow, Linctus.” 

“Oh, next time you use an ATM.” Paul said as he backed away. “Make sure you thank the banker inside.” 

Bucky burst out laughing and gave him a quick wave before turning around and heading towards his car parked in the parking lot. When he arrived home, the house smelt like garlic, basil and more garlic. 

“Jesus, Nat, you trying to kill a vampire?” Bucky called as he walked into the kitchen, dumping the mail and his keys on the counter. Natasha was nowhere in sight so he quickly went to the pot of creamy pasta sauce bubbling away on the stove. He grabbed a spoon and right as he was about to scoop some up for a taste, he got a whack to the back of his head. 

“I just stuck half cooked chicken in there. You really wanna do that?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, setting her weapon, the wooden spoon, down on the bench. 

“Maybe not.” Bucky sighed, putting his teaspoon back in the drawer. 

“So, how was your day?” She asked as he sat down at their little dining table in the kitchen with a groan. 

“It was… Different.” Bucky said, thinking back to the man's smile. 

Natasha looked at him over her shoulder as she stirred the pot. “Did you talk to him?”

“Yeah.” Bucky smiled. 

“It's about damn time.” She smiled. “So? What's his name? When are you seeing him?” 

“I didn't actually get his name… And I'm not. I didn't talk to him that much. Just enough to know he's recently gotten out of a rough relationship or some other. Also, I'm pretty sure he's straight.” Bucky sighed, tugging at the tie around his neck. 

“Okay, not seeing him, fair enough. But you didn't even get his name? How else are you supposed to slowly make him fall in love with you and get over this past relationship?” Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“I'm not. I'm going to be respectful and leave him alone because he's clearly been through or is currently going through some shit.” Bucky said forcefully. 

Nat just let out a huff in reply. “Get changed. Dinner's not far away. 

*

“Have you checked the mail yet?” Bucky called through to the living room, draining the soapy water in the sink before drying his hands on his pants. 

“You brought it in. I thought you would have.” Nat replied. 

Bucky picked up the small stack of envelopes he had dropped on the counter earlier and brought them through to the lounge where Nat was watching a rerun of that nights news. “Bill… Bill… Bill… Postcard from Sam… Bill… Wrong address… And yet another bill.” 

“Who's this Bill guy? Think he's got a crush on me.” Nat said absent mindedly, bringing up Netflix on their TV. 

“Oh ha ha.” Bucky rolled his eyes and sat down next to her. “As if you haven't made that joke before.” 

“What did Sam say? Did he happen to explain why he used a postcard instead of just texting us like a normal human being?” 

“Uh, he says, New York is great, having a great time, blah blah blah, a postcard is way more fun than some boring text, Natasha. Your name is underlined and in big letters.” Bucky snorted, showing her and grinning at her look of outrage. 

What a dick.” Nat sighed, returning her gaze to the TV as she tried to remember what episode of Stranger Things they were on. 

“Chapter seven.” Bucky said as he picked up the letter addressed to Greg Jones.

“What's that?” Nat asked, looking at the letter in his hand. 

“Dunno. It's hand written. No stamps. No return address. This was hand delivered.” 

“Open it.” 

“What? Are you serious? That's illegal.” Bucky shook his head. 

“And what, you're going to give it back to the sender?” Nat raised an eyebrow. “There might be an address inside. Just open it.” 

“If there isn't then we'll have opened it for no reason.” Bucky mumbled, staring at the letter closely. 

“Buck, it showed up in our mail box with nothing but a name on it. It's obviously for someone that used to live here.” 

“Yeah, hand delivered. It just be important.” Bucky said, setting the letter with the bills. “I'm not going to open it. I'll take it down to reception tomorrow and ask them. They should have past tenants in the system. They can contact him that way.” 

“Boring.” Nat sighed. She glanced at Bucky before lunging forward and grabbing the letter, darting out of reach of Bucky's grabbing hand. 

“What are you doing?!” 

Nat ignored him and opened it up, pulling out the paper to start reading aloud. “Dear Greg, I know I'm the last person you want to hear from probably but I miss you. It's been a year and not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I miss your hair and I miss your smile and I miss your beautiful eyes.” Nat lowered the letter to look at Bucky. “This is riveting stuff.” 

“Nat, stop it. That's not yours to read.” Bucky sighed. He stood up just as Natasha gasped and moved away from him so he couldn't grab the letter. 

“Oh my god. What a dick.” Nat snorted. 

“What?” Bucky asked warily. 

“Oh no, this isn't yours to read. I won't force you to read someone else's mail.” Nat smiled at him sympathetically. 

“What? Tell me? What did he- no. Stop! You can't read someone else's mail.” Bucky shook his head and grabbed for it, snatching it out of her hands. He folded it up without looking at it and stuffed it back into the envelope. 

“You can't take it to reception now that its been opened.” Nat snorted, sitting back down on the couch. 

“The hell I can't.” Bucky said, leaving the letter on the coffee table. “Play the god damn episode.” 

“Hold on. Drinks.” Nat jumped up and darted into the kitchen, returning with two beers. 

“I don't want to get drunk.” 

“Then don't get drunk.” 

*

“… I miss our nights together, hidden beneath the trees in your back garden. I know I did a terrible thing and I put you in danger, but you have to understand that I never meant to hurt you. All those times when you mentioned your parents killing you if they found out you were gay, I thought you were exaggerating. That night at dinner, they were saying all those awful things about gay people and I couldn't take it anymore. If I had known you would have been disowned from your own family, I never would have told them… This guy is a complete asshole.” 

“Right?” Nat grinned. 

“You don't just out someone to their parents!” Bucky shook his head and went back to the letter. “Greg, I know I well and truly fucked up but if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, then please write back to me at Apartment 3B, 645 Oakwood Street. There's your address.” Bucky smiled. “All my love and more, Steve.” 

“Write back to him. Tell him he's an asshole for outing Greg.” Nat giggled drunkenly, leaning back against the couch. 

“No, I should write back and pretend to be Greg forgiving him. That'll serve him right for outing this Greg fellow.” Bucky laughed, falling down onto the couch next to Nat's head. 

“Let's do it! We need to go get more alcohol anyway. We can post it then.” Nat said, struggling to stand up. 

“Nahh, we shouldn't. We definitely don't need more alcohol, either.” Bucky sighed. 

“Bucky, how hard was it for you to come out to me? To your parents?” 

“Pretty upset, I believe.” Bucky sighed, thinking back to when he had told his parents. They'd been pretty okay about it, if not shocked.

“Exactly, now think about having a bad reaction from your parents. Getting disowned and never being allowed to see them again. You'd want to get a little revenge on the guy that did it, right?” Nat raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Fuck yes, I would.” Bucky sat up a little straighter. “Get me a pen and paper. Let's give this bastard a taste of his own medicine.” 

*

“Read it to me.” 

“Dear Steve, although I hate to admit it, I miss you too. Even though my anger at you has slowly dissipated over this past year, my feelings for you have not. After living on my own for a while, I have come to realise that I can't live without you. I want-”

“It's too much too fast. We need to make it more like a 'I don't exactly want to talk to you but I don't want to not talk to you.' kind of letter. We can't forgive him straight away. We just want to get his hopes up first.” Natasha said, pacing around behind Bucky at the table. 

“Scrap it?” 

“Scrap it.” 

One hour later, they had perfected the letter, being slightly forgiving, slightly nostalgic and slightly dickish. Bucky had long since forgotten that he hadn't wanted to get drunk and was now happily walking down the road to the liquor store with Nat, the letter tucked into his pocket with a brand new stamp that he'd bought from the convenience store.

“This is so bad.” Bucky sniggered as they reached the post box. 

“Just stick it in. Haven't you ever done anything rebellious in your life?” Nat grinned. 

“Not really.” Bucky said, his teeth chattering. It was almost midnight and it was freezing. Neither of them had brought a coat, stupidly enough. 

“Come on. I want to go home.” 

“What, no more beer?” 

“Nah. Can't be bothered. Plus, you have work tomorrow.” Natasha pointed out. “And you didn't want to get drunk in the first place.” 

“Yeah, great job I did there.” Bucky snorted. “All right. Let's go home. Bye bye, letter.” Bucky dropped the letter into the post box, waving at it as it dropped down. They set off back to their apartment and the letter was forgotten. For exactly one week.


	2. The Reply

_Three weeks earlier._

“All right, Mr Jones, that account is now unlocked and you can access your money in there. Was there anything else I can do for you, Sir?” Bucky looked up from the computer at the unsmiling man. 

“No.” The man swiped up his card from the desk and walked off without another word. 

“Okay, thanks for treating me like a human being.” Bucky muttered under his breath as the man walked away. 

“What a douche.” Danny sighed beside him, watching him go. 

“Can't please everyone.” Bucky yawned, glancing down at his watch. Just ten minutes before they closed and the man still hadn't come in. He was beginning to get slightly nervous for the guy. He'd probably get in trouble if he didn't deposit the cash at the end of the day. The minutes seemed to go by too fast for Bucky's liking. 

“You can handle the front, right? I'm going to go deal with the mess Paul left.” Danny sighed. Paul had been allowed to leave an hour early due to him getting a headache. But as he'd left, he'd revealed he'd been faking it and he actually had a date to get ready for. His parting words as he'd backed out the front doors were, “By the way, I accidentally knocked over a stack of pamphlets in one of the offices. See ya!” 

Bucky nodded and let out a big sigh, feeling exhausted from doing basically nothing all day. The bank had been relatively quiet most of the day. Which was weird considering they were all closed the two days prior. Bucky checked his watch, 17:01, and let out a sigh. He had to start locking up. He went over to the light switches and turned off all the lights throughout the lobby. 

“Fuck, am I too late?” 

Bucky spun around and was shocked to see the man standing in the door way, panting and red in the face. 

“No! No. I can still help you.” Bucky smiled, going to the deposits desk and loading up the screen. 

“God. I would have been in so much shit if I hadn't been able to do this.” The man panted, sweating slightly. 

“How far away is your work?” Bucky asked as he put the transaction through. 

“Like a ten minute walk. I completely forgot I still had to do this until about five minutes ago. Ran all the way here.” He puffed, handing Bucky the cash. 

“Well, at least you made it on time.” Bucky smiled, giving him the receipt. 

“Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” He smiled. 

“It's hardly like I was about to leave. All I had done was turn off the lights.” Bucky informed him, leaning against the desk to get just a little bit closer. 

“What do you even have to do to close this place up?” 

“Sign out of the computers. Make sure there's no money anywhere. Turn off the lights. Anything else and one of our bosses does it.” Bucky shrugged. “Not all that much.” 

“At least yours is nice and easy.” The man grumbled. “I have to restock everything for the next day, clean up any rubbish left behind, vacuum everywhere, do the cash up, deposit it in here, clean the small staffroom and lock up. All within the last half hour that we're open. And I have to try and do everything else in under half an hour after we shut. Depositing the money takes at least twenty minutes to do which gives me ten minutes to clean everything and count the cash before I take it. It's fucking so unfair.” 

“That really fucking sucks.” Bucky said sympathetically. He'd had his fair share of shitty jobs, that was for sure. “Just come work here. We need an extra person for when we start opening on Saturdays.” 

“Nah, not my thing. Books are my thing. They make my job worth it.” The man smiled. 

“Fair enough. Banking is a pretty boring job anyway. For me at least.” Bucky sighed, looking out the front door as someone started to walk in. “Uh, sorry, we're closed.” 

“Oh. Right.” The woman gave the man a look before retreating to the ATM just outside. 

“I should get going. Don't want to hold you up.” The man said. “I'll see you next week.” 

“Have a good afternoon.” Bucky called as he walked out. He still didn't get the man's name. 

*

“Bucky, you are not going to believe this.” Natasha called from the kitchen. 

Bucky threw his shoes in his closet and left his bedroom to go and see what she was on about. “What's going on?” 

“Do you remember last Monday night?” She looked up at him when he walked in. She was holding a letter in her hands and in an instant it all came back to him. 

“Oh fuck.” Bucky's face fell. “Did he reply?” 

“Yeah… It's…” Nat trailed off and wordlessly handed the letter to Bucky. 

_Dear Greg,_

_I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am that you wrote back. I seriously wasn't expecting to hear from you. I know, you can't just forgive me in the blink of an eye, but if you're willing to let me, I'll do everything I can to prove just how sorry I am and that I still love you._

_Do you remember the night of our first kiss? I remember it like it was yesterday. It breaks my heart to think I might never kiss those lips again. Kissing you is a better experience than anything ever. I would love to see you again. Maybe we could catch up over coffee?_

“All my love, Steve… Fuck.” Bucky put down the letter and looked at Natasha's conflicted face. “Go on. Laugh. Get it all out.” 

“It's just so… it serves him right. That's all.” She laughed. “I know, we're messing with other people's lives and all, but he deserves it after what he did.” 

“Remind me what that is again?” Bucky sighed, sitting down at the table as she started dishing up their dinner of butter chicken. 

“He outed his boyfriend to his parents. As far as I could tell. Naan bread?” 

“Please. Should I write back again? Or just leave it?” Bucky asked, unsure of how to go forward from this. 

“I'd say leave it alone. One letter is enough.” Natasha sighed. 

Hours later, however, Bucky found that he couldn't leave it alone. He was trying to read in his bedroom but his mind kept going back to the letter sitting out on the kitchen counter. Maybe this Steve guy wasn't all that bad. He made a mistake. He seemed to be very sorry for it. The least Bucky could do was let him down gently. Bucky sighed and grabbed a pen and some paper, leaning on his book to write. 

_Steve,_

_Look, I'm sorry but I feel like things would be better if we just continued on with our lives, without each other. Too much has happened and it's been too long. I'm sorry but I know this will be best._

_Greg_

Bucky stared at it for a moment before screwing it up and rewriting it, only to realise his new copy was basically identical. He folded it up and tucked it into his book to take with him tomorrow. He'd have to grab an envelope and a stamp again. Bucky flicked the light off and curled up in bed, staring at the letter sticking out of the book in the darkness. He felt so guilty over it. Why had he written a reply in the first place? It was a stupid idea and now he felt like he needed to say something better than what he had. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled, turning his light back on before going over the letter again. It wasn't good enough. He grabbed a fresh piece of paper and went back to the drawing board. 

_Dear Steve,_

_As much as I would love to see your face again, I just feel like too much has happened. I might want to punch your lights out if I see you again. It's just too much has happened and it's been too long. I think it would be better for the both of us if we just continue on with our lives instead of catching up. I know it's not what you want to hear but please do this. For me._

_Love, Greg_

Bucky nodded in approval at his work. Third times the charm. He got rid of the second draft and replaced it with the final copy, switching his light back off and finally going to sleep. 

*

“No way. What did you do then?” 

“I told her she has to leave. That I can't have people in my store throwing books at other customers.” The man grinned unabashedly. 

“Jesus.” Bucky shook his head in amazement. “I don't think I've ever had a customer like that before.”

“Can't say I've had one before today either.” He replied, glancing out the front door of the bank as a child went screaming past, their mother running past shortly afterwards. 

“Do you want kids?” Bucky asked before he could stop himself. 

“Uh, not right now. Why? You offering?” The man raised an eyebrow at him, causing Bucky's entire face to heat up. 

“No, I just- there was-” He started rambling. “I can't stand them. Parents drag them in here, screaming and crying and pooping and yelling and just being loud. It's awful. I just don't know why anyone would want them.” 

“They're not all bad. My niece is a bit of a sweetie pie. She's always wanting me to teach her how to draw and read her stories.” He said fondly. 

“Okay, but, the difference there is that you can give her back at the end of the day. You're not there for all the shitty times.” Bucky pointed out, his eyes happening to catch sight of the clock on the computer in front of him. 17:19 They'd been talking for twenty minutes. No doubt, Paul and Danny were in with Mr Wheeler, watching him and waiting. Any minute now they were going to get fed up and force him to end his conversation with the man. 

“Oh hey, you never told me why you were in here on a Wednesday.” 

“Oh. I finished work and needed to get some cash out at the ATM. Figured I'd pop in and say hello.” He said cheerily, flashing Bucky a sunny smile before stretching his back. “I guess I should get back home though. Let you finish up.” 

“Uh, yeah.” Bucky frowned. “Didn't realise how fast the time was going.” 

“Anyway. I'll see you around, Bucky.” The man smiled, and before Bucky could even think to ask for his name, he was gone out the door. 

“God dammit.” He muttered, running his fingers through his hair, pulling out the hair tie as he did. 

“Oh my god. Are you even alive anymore? Did that kill you? Did you survive talking up close and personal with him for that long?” 

Bucky looked up to see Paul, Danny and Mike trailing out of the staffroom, all three of them grinning at Bucky, ready to go. “I'm sorry guys. You know, you didn't have to wait. You could have come out.” 

“We figured you two needed some alone time.” Danny winked at him, shifting her bag to her other shoulder. 

“I hate you guys.”

*

“Hey, Buck?” 

“Yeah?” Bucky paused in his chopping of the onions, wiping his eyes on his shoulder. 

“Can you come here for a minute?” 

Bucky was desperate for a break from the stinging onions so he was only too happy to oblige. He dropped the onion in his hand and walked into the living room where Nat was stretched out on the couch, the mail in her hands. Fuck. 

“What's up?” Bucky asked casually, knowing exactly what was up.

“Explain this to me.” She said, holding the letter out for him to read. 

Bucky wiped his hands on his apron and took it from her, still getting the smell of onion everywhere. One look told him it was from Steve. “What's to explain?” 

“You wrote back, didn't you.” It wasn't even a question. She was looking at Bucky like he was a five year old. “I told you not to.” 

“I couldn't help myself. Like, what if he's a really good guy and he made one mistake and now we're the assholes trying to punish him for something. It doesn't fit the crime if you ask me.” Bucky said matter of factly, backing away slowly to go back to the kitchen.

“Are you going to reply to this one?” She raised a judging eyebrow up at him. 

“Depends what this one says. Anyway. Gotta get back to dinner.” He said, dashing out before she could tell him off anymore. He set the letter aside and continued chopping up his onion, waiting to read it. When he heard the ads finish and the news come back on, he sat down and started to read the letter. 

_My darling Greg,_

_I understand completely. What if we just keep talking through letters? It's kind of cool, you have to admit. No technology involved whatsoever. How have you been? Are you still working at the bar? How's Pepper and Tony? Do you still call them Pepperony? I still have the same old job. Except I got promoted to closing manager on Sundays and Mondays._

Something in Bucky prickled at that but he brushed it off. 

_It pays slightly better but it's also a hell of a lot more difficult. My dad still doesn't talk to me. Mom and I tried to organise a 'reunion' of sorts a few months back. He agreed to meet me for lunch but… It didn't go well. What can you do though, I guess. Have you tried contacting your parents at all? I can't apologise enough for what I did… I feel terrible. You know I love you, right? I never would have set out to hurt you. At risk of sounding like a broken record, I'll only say this one more time. I am truly sorry for what I did to you and the hurt I caused you._

_All my love,_

_Steve_

Bucky set the letter down and swore under his breath. That wasn't what he had hoped for. He had hoped this Steve guy would accept that 'Greg' didn't want to talk to him. Now Bucky had to craft a reply and try and get it through his head that Bucky didn't want to know Steve. Except a small part of him did. He liked Steve's handwriting and the way he wrote in all caps. He liked how persistent he was. The only thing he hated was that the man seemed to be genuinely sorry and still in love with Greg. It made it impossible for Bucky to be cold and dismissive. He couldn't bring himself to do that to this guy. Bucky put the letter aside, out of the way of and finished making dinner. His reply would have to wait until afterwards. 

“You're finishing work early tomorrow, right?” Natasha said as she walked in. 

“Uh- why would I do that?” Bucky asked, sliding the chopped onions and garlic into the pan, smiling as they started sizzling loudly. 

“It's Thursday? To pick Sam up from the airport, dumb ass? We promised him we would. Only I have plans now.” 

“Oh, fuck. I guess I have to then.” Bucky sighed, slightly pissed off at this change of plans. He had been hoping the man would come in and say hi again like he had today. It was turning into something much worse than a crush. Full on feelings for the guy. To make matters worse, he still didn't actually know his name. He'd spoken to the man three times now and he had Bucky's name but Bucky still didn't know his. It was ridiculous. 

Later that night, after Nat had bullied Bucky into doing the dishes for her due to her 'sore back' from helping Clint move house, Bucky was lying in bed drafting his reply to Steve. He had already gone through three pieces of paper and was about to screw up the fourth. For some reason, he felt like he had to get it perfect. 

_Dear Steve,_

_This isn't what I meant when I said I didn't want to meet up. I'm doing okay and I'm glad you are too, congrats on your promotion btw, but we can't keep writing. As fun as it is, it's just better for us if we stay apart. I have a new job now and I haven't spoken to my dad since that night. I'm sorry meeting your dad didn't go as well._

_All the best,_

_Greg_

Bucky decided that was good enough and slipped it inside his book, once again, for posting the next day. He knew it was a very slippery slope that he was heading down but he couldn't stop himself. He was now, somehow, convinced that this Steve guy was a good guy and didn't deserve to be hurt by Bucky's drunk antics. 

*

“I have some bad news.” 

“What?” 

“Yesterday, about fifteen minutes after you left early… Your boy came in looking for you.” 

Bucky's head shot up and he looked at Paul in shock. “Are you serious?” 

“Not joking. He said he was out getting some shopping done and thought he may as well come and see you.” Paul didn't look like he was lying. He wouldn't have any reason to lie. 

“Fuck.” Bucky sighed. “I can't believe I missed him.” 

“He seemed pretty disappointed when I told him you had finished early.” Paul commented, returning his focus to his work in front of him. 

“Maybe I should go see him on my lunch break…” Bucky mumbled, more to himself. 

“I wouldn't do that. That might seem a little desperate.” Paul warned, glancing at him as Bucky stared into space, deep in thought. 

“He's the one that popped in to see me two days in a row.” Bucky pointed out happily. 

“True… Didn't think about that.” Paul frowned. “All right. Do what you want.” 

Bucky's lunch hour seemed to take forever to arrive but as the Earth kept spinning, it eventually rolled around. He was gone within seconds, out the door with his keys and his wallet. It only occurred to him as he was driving up the street that he actually had no idea where this guy worked or exactly how far away it was. He had said it was a ten minute walk and he always came from the right so that was a start. How many book shops were even around here? 

Bucky had come to the conclusion that he had an angel watching over him because just as he reached the top of the road, with no bookshop in sight, he spotted the man walking down the street. Bucky turned left to follow him, praying the man wouldn't spot him. A minute later, Bucky decided that it had been pure luck spotting the man. He was driving slowly to stay out of sight from the man and not pass him. Too slow apparently. The car behind him blasted their horn causing everyone in the vicinity, including the man, to look around at the noise. The man spotted Bucky instantly, the two of them making eye contact before Bucky sped off up the street. He turned the corner and pulled into the first parking space he found. 

“Fucking fuck.” Bucky muttered. He grabbed his phone and dialled Nat's phone, begging her to pick up. She picked up on the third ring. 

“Hey, what's up? Aren't you at work?” 

“No. Yes. I'm on my break and I fucked up big time. Like stupid big time.” Bucky groaned, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. 

“What's happened?” 

Bucky explained about what Paul said and the incident with the stalker-like following of the man, finishing off with a big groan. “I'm fucked. He's going to think I'm a complete fucking weirdo and never want to talk to me again.” 

Nat was quiet for a moment. “Not necessarily. Next time you see him you could just tell him that you were driving home from work early and you thought you saw him but then the car behind you got pissed when you slowed down. Problem solved.” 

Bucky thought about it, realising that it was actually a pretty good explanation. He sat back and stared out the front window at the people passing by. There was someone getting into their car next to him. “What if I don't see him again? What if he purposely avoids me because he thinks I was following him? He's outside my car right- now- fuck. I'll call you back.” 

Bucky hung up and smiled at the man who wasn't actually getting into the car next to him. He was in fact waving through the window. He put the window down and smiled awkwardly at the man. “Uh, hey.” 

“Hey. Was that you I saw earlier?” He raised an eyebrow at Bucky. 

“Uh- yeah. I was- was going home early from work and I thought I saw you. Stupidly I slowed down and pissed off the driver behind me.” Bucky said sheepishly, blushing furiously as the man grinned at Bucky. 

“Uh huh. So, how come you're outside of my work?” 

Bucky looked up, shocked to see a quaint but busy little bookshop in front of his car. “Oh, I actually had no idea. I just pulled over to answer my phone.” 

“Right. Well, you wanna come in for a coffee? I've got like fifteen minutes left of my break.” He smiled easily, not doubting Bucky for a second. 

“That sounds nice.” Bucky returned the smile, all of his nerves disappearing in an instant. 

He put his window back up and got out of his car, locking it before following the man inside the book shop. There were a few customers milling about and a grumpy looking man behind the counter. 

“Hey, Pete, this is my friend Bucky. All good if I take him out back for a coffee?” The man asked, already leading Bucky behind the counter. 

“Yeah, whatever.” Pete waved a hand in dismissal, not even looking up from his book. 

The man lead Bucky out into a small staffroom with a small counter, equipped with a sink, a mini fridge and a jug. There was coffee on the bench and two seats in the corner. Perfect for a cosy little coffee date. Immediately Bucky had visions of the man pushing Bucky up against the counter, kissing him roughly while his boss sat in the next room. He quickly pushed the thought out of his mind and sat down. 

“So, how come you're going home from work early?” 

“Oh- I- I'm picking up my friend from the airport.” Bucky lied. 

“I thought that was yesterday...” The man looked around at Bucky in confusion. 

“Uh- fuck. Okay. Truth is, Paul told me you came to see me yesterday but missed out because I left early so I figured I could come see you on my lunch break only I didn't actually know where you worked so I was kind of just winging it until I saw you walking. That's why I was going slow because I was kind of following you in the least creepy way possible.” Bucky let out a breath, his cheeks heating up as the man considered him. 

“Seems legit.” He smiled finally, returning to the coffee making. “Sugar?”

“Two please. No milk though.” Bucky said, managing to feel himself relax properly. 

“Almost identical to me. I have one and no milk.” He smiled over his shoulder at Bucky. “How's your day been?” 

“Ugh. We had the most annoying customer today. It was morning time, super busy as usual. There's clear signs above each desk to say where to line up right? She lines up in the wrong line. We tell her she's in the wrong line and she gets angry saying we should have told her blah blah blah I want to speak to the manager. All the bullshit.” Bucky huffs out. “In the end we had to let her to the front of the correct line just to shut her up.” 

“What a bitch. Just learn to fucking read.” The man shook his head, handing Bucky his coffee. 

“Otherwise the day's been fine. Aside from my embarrassing stalking mishap.” Bucky mumbled, looking around at the different book cover posters on the wall. They spent the next ten minutes talking about annoying customers before suddenly the man had to go back to work and Bucky needed to get something to eat before his own break finished. 

He left the bookshop feeling happy about the turn of events. He didn't even care that Paul would give him shit. Or that he had, once again, forgotten to get the man's name. It was beyond ridiculous at this point and Bucky had no idea how to approach it now. He just resolved to ask him outright the following Monday when he came in after work. If he was honest like he was today, he should be fine. Hopefully.


	3. The Name

_Two weeks earlier._

_Greg,_

_How many times can I say I'm sorry? Look, I really want to make it up to you. Just once. Let me buy you dinner and I'll leave you alone for good. I just can't leave things the way we did. I'm going to be honest, I kind of feel like my feelings are already dissipating. So if that's what's scaring you off, you don't need to worry! I met someone a couple of weeks ago and I really like him. I just don't feel like I can truly move on unless I can apologise to you in person and, at the very least, buy you a drink._

_Please, Greg. If you could see me right now, I would be on my knees begging you. Just one drink. It's all I'm asking._

_Love from, Steve._

“Fuck… Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...” 

“What are you fucking about?” Natasha asked as she came into the living room wiping her hands on a teatowel. 

Bucky whipped the letter out of sight and smiled up at her, hoping she hadn't noticed. “Oh, just a paper cut. Damn bills.” He said, sticking a finger in his mouth a second too late. 

Natasha stared at him, her expression unreadable. “You wrote another letter, didn't you…?” 

Bucky scoffed and looked away. “Don't be stupid.” 

“Bucky, I've known you for ten fucking years. You don't think I know when you're lying?” 

“Look, I couldn't help myself, okay? I didn't want to leave him hanging. Constantly waiting for another reply. I had to try and end it officially. To at least give the guy a little bit of closure...” 

“And?” 

Bucky looked down at his hands in his lap, picking at his nails as he mumbled. “He wants to meet up just one last time...” 

“Oh for god's sake.” Nat laughed. 

“What do I do?” Bucky asked desperately, getting up and following her back into the kitchen, letter in hand. 

“No way. You got yourself into this mess. You can get yourself out of it. You're a big boy.” She smirked, flipping over the grilled cheese sandwiches in the pan. 

“Knew you'd say that.” Bucky sighed, grabbing plates out of the cupboard for the two of them. 

“Then why'd you ask?” Nat rolled her eyes as she dished up the sandwiches onto their plates. 

“I'm a desperate man. I've got nothing to lose.” Bucky grinned. “You want something to drink?” 

“Juice, thanks. Look, you've got two options. Either just stop writing all together and force him to get the picture or you can tell him the truth. That will sure as hell get him to stop writing to this Greg guy.” 

They both picked up their plates and drinks and went into the living room, settling down in front of the TV. They had the last episode of Stranger Things ready to go but Bucky didn't press play immediately. “If I tell him the truth, what if he starts pestering me? Sending me hate mail or worse, he shows up on our doorstep and starts getting angry?” 

“Bucky, he wrote a love letter to an old boyfriend. I hardly think he's the type. Do you?” 

“No...” Bucky frowned. 

“Just play the episode.” 

*

“Sam, I need help.” 

“Oh, finally. I never thought you'd admit it. I can drive you to the therapist if you want. Do you want me to come in with you? I can be your support person.” 

“No!” Bucky punched his arm. “Not that kind of help. Although, when you hear why I need help you might need to drag me there.” 

“Why? What have you done now?” Sam asked, looking at Bucky's torment in amusement. 

“I fucked up, is what I did.” Bucky sighed, going on to explain the whole letter fiasco. He even pulled out the last reply from Steve to give Sam more information. He was quiet as he read it before he looked up at Bucky in disappointment, shaking his head to show just how disappointed he was. 

“You really have fucked up.” Sam said, stating the obvious as he took a sip of his coffee. They were at a small cafe a few doors down from Bucky's work. With Sam finally being settled back in after months of living in New York for an apprenticeship, he finally felt like he could catch up with people. Bucky was the first, generously offering his lunch break to be spent with Sam.

“Yes, I already know that, Samuel. Help me unfuck it up.” Bucky demanded, taking the letter back and folding it up. 

“Well… I mean, there isn't much you can do except to tell him the truth. If you want it all to stop.” 

“No. That isn't an option.” Bucky shook his head adamantly. “He can't know. It's too cruel.” 

“But you need to clear your conscience, yes?” Sam looked at him pointedly. 

“Fuck. You're right.” 

“Of course, I'm right.” Sam smiled widely. “How the hell you and Nat managed without me for six months, I'll never know.” 

“I don't think anyone ever will know, to be honest.” Bucky smirked. He glanced down at his phone and let out a groan. “I need to get back.” 

“Okay. It was good to see you properly, Buck.” Sam said, standing up with Bucky and pulling him into a hug. “Also, thanks for picking me up from the airport. I don't think I said that last week.” 

“Not a problem. Sorry Nat bailed on you.” Bucky smiled. “Come over for drinks tomorrow night. It's the weekend. None of us are working and I will likely be getting drunk to get over the guilt of pretending to be someone else.” 

“I'll get back to you, yeah?” Sam nodded. “I think my mom wants to have dinner with me.” 

“Come over afterwards, you idiot.” Bucky smiled, backing away towards his work. 

“True. Good luck, man. See ya.” 

Bucky gave him a wave before turning around and walking straight into the love of his life, almost sending the two of them to the ground. “Holy shit. I am so sorry. Oh my god.” 

“All good.” He smiled easily, his hands on Bucky's arms to steady him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, I'm fine. What's up?” Bucky looked at him curiously as they started walking towards the bank together. 

“Oh, I went in to see you and they said you were at the cafe catching up and that I should go get you because your break was supposed to end five minutes ago.” 

“I have five minutes left. Who told you that?” Bucky laughed. 

“Paul. He also told me that you don't actually know my name and it's been too long for you to ask.” He grinned at Bucky. 

“Fuck.” Bucky groaned. “It just never came up, you know? Like, we weren't talking for long enough for me to get around to asking and suddenly it had gone too far and you had my name from my name tag and… Yeah.” Bucky finished lamely. 

“Don't worry about it. It's not that big of a deal.” He laughed, his eyes lighting up. 

“So?” 

“So what?” 

“What is your name then?” Bucky snorted as they came to a stop at the front doors of the bank. 

“Oh! Right. Steve Rogers.” He smiled. 

“Say what now?” Bucky blinked, reeling backwards slightly. There was a buzzing in his head, his face felt warm. Actually, his entire body felt warm. Too warm. He couldn't breath properly. 

“Steve. Steve Rogers. Nice to officially meet you.” He smiled, holding his hand out for Bucky to shake. His smile faltered and he lowered his hand as he took in Bucky's face. “You okay?” 

“I- I need to get back to work.” Bucky stammered out, turning around and fleeing out the back into the staffroom before he said anything incriminating. 

In the staffroom, he splashed cold water on his face and leaned against the bench, breathing hard as he waited for the panic to subside. A few minutes later, Danny came in, rubbing his back to sooth him. 

“Everything okay? Your boy just came and asked if someone could check on you. Said you guys were talking normally and suddenly you looked like you were gonna throw up and you disappeared. You eat something funky at the cafe?” 

“Uh- yeah. I need to go home.” Bucky said, jumping on the excuse to get out of there. He didn't want to be there if the man, Steve fucking Rogers, returned to check up on him. 

“Okay. I'll let dad know. You head off.” Danny said kindly, smiling at him sympathetically. 

“Thanks, Danny. I'll see you Monday.” Bucky muttered, grabbing his shit and heading outside. He got in his car as fast as he could, peeling out of the parking lot in record time. He definitely broke some speed limits on his way home, desperate to put as much distance as possible between him and Steve. 

When he arrived home, Natasha was sitting in the kitchen eating her lunch and reading a book. She looked up at his arrival in confusion, putting her book down and standing slowly as she took in Bucky's face. 

“It's him. Steve. Steve is the- the writer. The letter guy and he's my guy he works in the fucking bookshop oh fuck.” Bucky managed to get out, falling into the other seat. He put his heads in his hands as Natasha gasped. 

“Fucking hell... How do you know?”

“I finally got his name. Steve Rogers… I cant believe this.” Bucky shook his head, the guilt of it all worse than ever.

“It could be a different Steve? Just a coincidence?” Natasha suggested weakly. 

“No, it's him. How many Steve Rogers are there in this area that have recently been promoted to closing up on Sundays and Mondays at their job, that are gay and recently got out of a relationship that messed them up? You really think there's more than one?” Bucky snapped. 

“Okay. Sorry… What are you gonna do?” 

“I don't know! I only just found out!” Bucky burst out. “Fuck. I never should have fucking replied to that god damn letter fucking hell!” 

“I told you so.” Natasha said smugly. 

“Oh, don't do that. You have to help me.” Bucky pleaded. “You were the one egging me on to reply to the first letter.”

“Yeah, while I was drunk?” Nat said angrily. “But I did tell you not to reply to the other ones. I told you countless times. This is your own fault.” Natasha said firmly. “Meet him and explain.”

“No way. I am not telling him.” Bucky shook his head adamantly. “I'll just- avoid him. Avoid him and stop replying to the letters.” 

Nat snorted. “Good luck with that.” 

*

“What the hell is going on?” 

“Bucky! Hey! You're back finally!” Natasha cried out happily as he walked through the front door, dumping the case of beers on the bench as people milled about around him. 

“I was gone for half an hour.” Bucky said incredulously, staring around at all the people he did and didn't know. “I thought we were just having drinks with a few friends?” 

“Not anymore.” She grinned. “Paul and Danny brought friends who brought friends. Don't look so upset, Buck! It'll be fun. Exactly what you need!” 

“You're dealing with the cops when we get a noise complaint.” Bucky sighed, heading past her into the living room. There were even more people and the music was much louder in here. He spotted Sam and headed over to him, falling down onto the couch next to him with a huff. 

“You get the beer?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why didn't you bring some over?”

“Because I'm an idiot.” Bucky sighed. He got up with a huff and returned to the kitchen to grab the beers. 

The way their kitchen was set up was kind of awkward. If the front door was open, then the fridge couldn't be. There were countless scratches and marks and dents on both the fridge door and their front door from times that one of them had arrived home while the other had the fridge open. If someone was standing at the counter, next to the fridge, they were almost invisible from the front door. It was a small kitchen and was difficult to move around in when there was two people, let alone five. 

On this particular occasion however, Bucky had never been more thankful that the front door couldn't open properly if the fridge was open. Just as Bucky was putting most of the beers in the fridge, someone knocked on the door. Natasha was right there, so she opened it, forcing Bucky to take a step back. He rolled his eyes as he was trapped between the half open fridge door and the half open front door. 

“Hi, how's it going?” Nat said easily. “Noise too much? We can turn it down.” 

“No! No, the noise is fine. Don't- don't worry about that. I don't live in the building.” 

Bucky froze at the sound of that voice. He awkwardly turned around to peer through the thin crack of the door, his stomach doing somersaults at the sight of Steve standing at the door wringing a cap in his fingers. 

“Oh! What can I do for you then?” Natasha asked. 

“Um, this is awkward. I wasn't expecting him to have company. Um, look, my name is Steve Rogers. I was wondering if I could see Greg?” 

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, begging Natasha to be sober enough to know who he was. 

“Greg? Greg… Um. Oh! No. He doesn't live here anymore.” Natasha shook her head. “He must have moved out before me and my friend moved in. About eight months ago.” 

“What? No… That's… That's not possible. I've been writing to him. He's been replying.” Steve said desperately. Bucky's heart went out to him. 

“We've been forwarding his mail. Well, giving it to the receptionist. She must have his new address.” Natasha shrugged, her nails digging into the door to show just how stressed she was. She flipped Bucky off as Steve replied.

“Oh… Right then. Thanks. Sorry for bothering you.” He sighed, sounding defeated. 

Bucky couldn't believe it. Steve was starting to turn away. Natasha was starting to close the door. They were going to get away with it. All of Bucky's troubles seemed to be over, solved in the blink of an eye. Until fucking Sam ruined everything. 

“Yo, Bucky?! Where the hell is that beer?” Sam yelled, waltzing into the kitchen. 

Bucky looked through the crack to see Steve turn around, recognising Sam immediately. Sam must have been looking at Bucky, not realising who was at the door. He didn't even know about Bucky's crush on the guy from the bookshop or that he was Steve. Bucky was fucked. Steve saw him looking behind the kitchen door and looked through the crack himself, causing Bucky to dart away as fast as possible, almost breaking his neck. It was too late though. 

“Bucky?” 

“Nope. No Bucky here.” Natasha said brightly. “Have a good night!” 

She tried to shut the door but Steve's foot was in the way. “Hold on. Bucky, my friend is behind your door. Can I see him?” 

Natasha's head popped around and she looked at Bucky, mouthing an apology. Bucky shut the fridge and sighed. He took in a few deep breaths before stepping around and grinning at Steve. “Steve! Hey! How's it going?!” 

Steve stared at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?” 

“Um, I live here… What about you?” Bucky asked stupidly, doing his very best to keep it light. 

“Oh! I was, I was in the neighbourhood and wanted to see an old friend. He actually used to live here. Crazy coincidence, right?” Steve smiled, panic flashing in his eyes for some reason. 

“Crazy.” Bucky agreed, desperate to end this awkward conversation. Natasha was standing directly behind him, no doubt struggling not to laugh, while Sam was probably trying to pull an explanation out of her. 

“Are you okay? You kind of disappeared yesterday. Paul said you ate something bad?” 

“Oh, yeah. Just a bout of food poisoning.” Bucky said, regretting it the instant the words were out of his mouth. 

“Wow. You got better quick.” Steve said slowly, peering at Sam and Nat behind him. Bucky glanced over his shoulder to see them whispering furtively before Nat disappeared into the living room.

“Right. Yeah, it didn't last that long.” Bucky mumbled, returning his gaze to Steve and slightly pulling the door shut, begging him to get the hint. 

“Okay...” Steve stared at him for a moment. Bucky should have invited him in. He would have if it hadn't been for the letters sitting on the god damn coffee table. He had been going over them with Sam earlier, before he'd gone out for more beer. He couldn't believe the situation he was in. Bucky would kill to spend more time with him, look at him. He was falling very easily for this guy and now it was all fucked up.

“You off anywhere fun?” Bucky asked, mentally kicking himself. 

“Nope. Just… Having a night in, I guess.” Steve muttered. It was beyond awkward and uncomfortable at this point. 

“Come in for a drink then? Bucky's too shy to ask because he has a great big crush on you.” Natasha said, announcing the return of her presence as she moved closer to Bucky. He put his hand behind his back and slapped at her. She pinched his arm and he almost shouted out.

Steve shook his head, grinning as he blushed along with Bucky. “No, no I can't.” 

“Go on, just one drink?” Natasha asked, ignoring Bucky's hand signal behind his back. 

“Just one drink?” Bucky asked, forcing himself to sound normal and relaxed. 

“Go on then.” Steve smiled. 

Bucky spun around to glare at Nat who just smiled widely at him. Bucky returned his attention to Steve, shutting the door once he was inside. “You want a beer?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Bucky was determined to keep him in the kitchen. He had an inkling that maybe Nat had moved the letters but he couldn't be sure and he couldn't ask Nat outright when Steve was right there. He handed Steve the beer that had originally been for Sam, sending him glares whenever Steve wasn't looking. He did not want Nat or Sam to see him panic his way through this conversation. But they both refused to leave, instead choosing to sit at the small dining table and pretend to be in a conversation. 

“So how was your day?” Bucky asked brightly, forcing himself to get over his anxiety. Steve didn't know anything and it was fine. So long as he kept Steve in the kitchen. 

“Oh my god. The worst. We had this one lady come in today around lunchtime when, for whatever reason, we had a bit of a rush, right? She barges up to the counter, not even caring about the line, and asks for this book that I've never even heard of. I tried googling it later but it didn't come up so she must have gotten it wrong. But she starts groaning and yelling and getting so fucking angry when I tell her we don't have it.” 

“She ask for the manager?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smile on his face as he relaxed back into Steve's company. 

“Of course. He comes out and says exactly the same thing and she gets even more pissed off and starts asking the customers if they've heard of the book which, no one has, which gets her in even more of a rage and she storms out swearing at yelling about everyone being a complete fucking idiot.” Steve shook his head. “Almost as bad as the book throwing lady.” 

“Honestly, I thought you were going to tell me that's what she started doing.” Bucky laughed. “What a nightmare.” 

“Absolute worst. I tell you though, Pete and I were making fun of her all afternoon. Telling our regular customers about her and everything.” Steve smiled, drinking most of his beer down. 

“I'm not surprised. Oh man, I didn't tell you about the old lady that called us up a few weeks ago!” Bucky gasped, remembering the day he'd first started talking to Steve. “She was asking if the banks were open on the weekends and Paul said most of them are shut. She asked if the ATMs would be operational and we said yes. Guess what she said.” Bucky grinned gleefully. 

“Tell me.” Steve grinned back. 

“She thought there were bankers inside the ATMs feeding out the money!” Bucky burst out laughing along with Steve, Nat and Sam. Bucky glanced at them, giving them a warning glance.

“That is amazing. Oh my god.” Steve smiled, wiping tears from his eyes. 

“Paul said she sounded like she was in her 80's.” Bucky giggled. “Bless her.” 

Steve was quiet for a moment as a loud crash sounded from in the living room. Nat jumped up looking nervous and disappeared and Steve asked what Bucky had been dreading. “Can I see the rest of the apartment? It's been like a year since I've last seen it.” 

“Uh-” Bucky stuttered but Steve was already taking steps towards the living room. Bucky followed close behind, fighting the urge to grab Steve and drag him backwards into the kitchen. He followed Steve around the living room, his heart rate doubling at the sight of the letters sitting on the coffee table, out for the world to see. Just as Steve was heading in their direction, Danny and Paul saved the day. 

“Steve! How's it going?!” Paul cried drunkenly, throwing an arm around his shoulders. 

Bucky slowly retreated as Steve was momentarily distracted. He grabbed the letters and dashed off to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him as he searched for a place to hide them. In a panic to get back out there before Steve noticed he was missing, Bucky threw them all into his closet. They floated down slowly, half of them landing outside of the closet. 

“Fuck.” Bucky grunted, scooping them all up before lifting his mattress up and shoving them underneath. He dropped his mattress before letting out a breath and returning to the living room where Danny and Steve were talking animatedly. Well, Steve was talking and Danny was yelling about her dad being an annoying boss. 

“There you are!” Steve called out at the sight of Bucky, looking at him desperately as Danny continued to talk, not really caring that no one seemed to be listening. 

“Yeah, just ran to the bathroom.” Bucky smiled easily, feeling ultimately more relaxed now that he was completely safe. 

The night continued on with the police showing up just after midnight, saying they needed to turn it down before they were issued a fine. At this point, most people were leaving anyway so Bucky and Nat were only too happy to turn the music down. The remaining guests included Sam, Danny, Paul and Steve. Bucky and Steve were quite comfortable sitting on the floor in the corner of the living room, looking out the window as they talked about the possibility of adding a cafe to Steve's work. 

Nat and Sam were in the kitchen and Danny and Paul were talking quietly on the couch. Bucky had a feeling something was happening between them but he couldn't be sure with the amount of alcohol in his system. He had ended up drinking more than he had anticipated. Steve was just as drunk as him and looked like he was about to crash. 

“Hey, Bucky?” Steve asked quietly when the conversation had lulled. 

“Mmm?” Bucky looked at him, blinking several times as a cop car's flashing lights sped past. 

“I think I've had too much to drink. Could I possibly crash here?” 

Bucky started laughing quietly. “Of course you can. Idiot. I'm not gonna make you drive drunk. Come on.” Bucky snorted. 

Bucky pulled himself to his feet somehow and held his hand out to Steve. His warm hand grasped Bucky's and he tugged, pulling him to his feet and staggering into Bucky slightly. Steve's hand went on Bucky's waist to steady him, the both of them swaying drunkenly. They stared at each other for a moment, close enough to kiss, before Danny broke the spell by wolf whistling. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bucky shook his head, stepping away from Steve and glaring at her. Steve followed him down towards his bedroom. Bucky could hear Nat and Sam talking in her room which meant he probably couldn't crash in her bed. 

“I'll sleep out on the couch. You can have my bed.” Bucky mumbled as he opened the door. He tried to picture his room through someone else's eyes but found he couldn't. At least not when he was drunk. It was just his room. 

“No. No that's fine.” Steve held his hands up as Bucky looked at him. “I'll just sleep out on the couch or the floor or something.” 

“Steve, take my bed.” Bucky said more seriously even though he was grinning. He immediately thought that maybe, Steve could just take Bucky instead. He seemed to have the same thought because his lips were suddenly on Bucky's. His hands were on Bucky's face, holding him in place as he kissed him like Bucky had never been kissed before. Automatically, Bucky's hands slid up and around Steve's waist, pulling him closer to him. Steve kicked the door shut behind them and pushed Bucky towards the bed, the two of them falling down together. Bucky felt dizzy with lust. He was so incredibly happy and turned on until the worst thing happened. He felt like he was going to be sick. 

“Fuck.” He muttered as Steve dragged his lips down Bucky's neck.

“I've wanted this so much.” He sighed happily, his hands on Bucky's side and his knee between his legs. 

“No. No stop. I'm gonna be sick.” Bucky groaned, pushing Steve off of him. He darted out into the bathroom as fast as possible, hurling the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Steve was suddenly behind him, holding his hair back and rubbing his back. 

When the heaving had subsided and Bucky felt slightly better, he wiped his mouth with toilet paper and flushed the toilet. He stood up and went to the sink, purposely ignoring Steve. He was fucking mortified. He'd never thrown up from being drunk before and now he'd gone and done it in front of Steve. 

“You okay?” Steve asked nervously when Bucky had finished washing his mouth out with water. 

“I am now.” Bucky mumbled. “Sorry. That wasn't you that was the alcohol.”

“Don't worry. I know.” Steve smiled at him. 

“Thanks.” Bucky smiled back. “Uh, I'm gonna brush my teeth. You can go to bed if you want.” 

“All right. You- you're coming back, right?” Steve asked hopefully. 

Bucky nodded and smiled even wider. “Definitely.”


	4. The Meeting

When Bucky woke up on Sunday morning, he was cold and alone and in so much pain. His head was pounding, there was a foul taste in his mouth, but the worst part of it all was the fact that Steve had left already. Bucky had hoped like hell that they'd be able to have breakfast together and maybe finish what they started before Bucky's bowels disagreed. 

When he'd gone back to bed after brushing his teeth, Steve had been half asleep in bed already. Bucky had found himself to be too tired to do anything anyway so he'd just climbed into bed, smiling to himself when Steve's arms had slithered around him and pulled him close. He'd kissed the back of Bucky's neck before mumbling a goodnight. 

Bucky stumbled out of his bedroom and into the bathroom, relieving himself before staring at his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands. There were bags under his eyes, his hair looked like rats tails and there was a love bite on his neck. He peered at it curiously, not remembering Steve doing that at all. He must have been really drunk last night. 

Bucky splashed his face with cold water and ran his hands through his hair, attempting to comb it slightly before returning to his bedroom. He lay back down carefully and dozed for an hour before a loud crash in the kitchen woke him up. He sat up and listened closely, not wanting to get up if he didn't have to. It was then that he noticed the note sitting on his bedside table. He snatched it up and smiled as he recognised Steve's handwriting. 

_Hey Bucky,_

_Had to go to work early. Didn't want to wake you. Last night was fun though. We should do it again some time._

_Steve xx_

Bucky grinned, pressing the note to his chest for a second before looking at it again. There was another crash in the kitchen and Bucky sighed. He set the note down and got up, stumbling out into the kitchen where Danny and Paul were giggling their asses off, pots and pans all over the floor. 

“What have you done?! What the hell are you guys doing? We have a system.” Bucky moaned. When Bucky and Nat had moved in together, they had argued over whose pots and pans they got to use. In the end, they had settled on using all of them and dealing with the small cupboard space. It had taken them a couple of months but they had finally found a way to store them all that worked for them. 

“We wanted to make breakfast.” Danny giggled, crouching down to pick them up only to fall onto her bum, still laughing. She was most definitely still drunk. 

“Paul, you should know better than this. You witnessed the argument over it all first hand.” Bucky sighed, bending down to pick them up himself. Neither of them seemed all that interested in cleaning up the mess they'd made. 

“What the fuck is going on?” 

Bucky turned around to see Nat standing in the doorway looking furious. She was wearing a baggy t-shirt and apparently nothing else. Bucky recognised it as Sam's and couldn't help but grin. “They were going to make breakfast.” 

“Oh for fucks sake.” Nat sighed. “I'm going back to bed.” 

“Don't want to keep Samuel waiting.” Bucky called after her as she walked away. 

“Go fuck yourself, Barnes.” 

Danny and Paul disappeared back into the living room, leaving Bucky to carefully stack all the pots and pans, smiling every now and then when Steve crept back into his mind. When Bucky finally finished, he went back to his bedroom. Danny and Paul were asleep again, under the only spare blanket Bucky and Nat had. They were on the floor, cuddling, and Bucky grinned. He was certainly going to hold that over the two of them at work. 

*

One week earlier.

“Good weekend?” 

“Fuck off.” Paul muttered, taking his eyes away from Danny who had just returned from her lunch break. “I could say the same thing to you.” 

“Except you can't.” Bucky snorted, informing Paul about the vomit mishap. 

“Well, my night definitely went better than that.” He snorted. “You going on your break now or can I?” 

“Uh, I'll go. I wanna call Nat about something.” Bucky sighed, disappearing into the staffroom to grab his things. He left the bank a minute later, already listening to the ringing sound as he waited for her to pick up. She said it was her day off that morning. Bucky had wanted to make sure someone was home for his package. He was waiting on a new jacket he'd bought online. 

“Hey, Buck. What's up?” 

“Hey. Has it come yet?” 

“No. But I'm just on my way to check the mail now.” Nat said, keys rattling in her hands. 

“It's a jacket, Nat. It's not going to fit in the mail box.” 

“Yeah, but I had to go out and do grocery shopping. It might have come then so there might be a slip.” Natasha sighed. 

“You told me you would be home all day.” Bucky sighed, sitting down at the cafe down the road. 

“I changed my mind.” Nat muttered. “It hasn't shown up yet. There's no slip. There is, however, a letter from Steve. This one has been hand delivered as well.” 

“Seriously? I haven't even replied to his last letter.” Bucky said in confusion, glancing around just in case Steve was right there. “Why has he hand delivered it again?” 

“I don't know. Can I open it?”

“No. Yes. I wanna know what it says, actually.” 

“Greg, I know you didn't reply to my last letter and I get it. But we need to meet. It's urgent. It's about your parents. I bumped into your Aunt and what she told me is better to be said face to face. Do you remember the bar next to my work? The one we got kicked out of for having sex in the bathroom- oh my god. Blah blah blah, please meet me there on Sunday at 7pm. It's the earliest I can plan without fear of you not reading this too late. Steve.” 

“Jesus christ...”

“I know.” 

“Do you think I should meet him?” Bucky asked as a waitress came over to take his order. “Latte and blueberry muffin, thanks.” 

“Hell no! Everything literally just fixed itself. You really want to screw that up now?” 

“Not particularly.” Bucky said moodily. “However, what if I go to that bar and when Greg doesn't show up, I can be there to comfort him.” 

“You want to know what's going on with his parents, don't you.” Nat sighed.

“Maybe.” Bucky mumbled. “I'll send him a letter and tell him I'll meet him.” 

“You are walking a very thin tightrope, my friend.” Natasha said in mock disapproval. 

“Uh huh. That's not the proper phrase.” 

“I don't care. Get back to work. I've got a cake to bake.” 

“Don't burn it.” Bucky smiled. “See you later.” 

“Good luck with Steve.” 

That afternoon when Steve came in to deposit the money, he was slightly earlier than usual. The past few weeks he'd been showing up late on purpose so he could talk to Bucky. But today, he arrived when the others were still out on the floor. He went to Danny and deposited the money before coming straight to Bucky. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey yourself.” Bucky smiled widely at him. “Good day?”

“Yeah. You?” 

“Better now.” Bucky grinned. 

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink with me sometime this week? Go on a proper date?” 

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Bucky nodded, his body filling with joy. 

“Um, tonight I can't...” Steve frowned as he thought about it. “Shit. I can only do Sunday night. Like from seven thirty onwards.” 

“Busy week.” Bucky commented, straightening up. 

“Yeah. Got a few friends to catch up with and whatnot.” Steve sighed. “Is Sunday okay?” 

“Uh- yeah. Sure. Where?” 

“Um, I hope this isn't too cheeky but I have to see an old friend before hand and we're meeting at the bar next to my work. It's a really nice place and I know you'd love it.” Steve smiled hopefully. 

“Yeah, that is definitely fine. Should I meet you there then?” Bucky asked, shoving his elbow behind him at the sounds of Paul being a dick. His elbow connected with ribs and pulled a grunt out of Paul, making Steve laugh. 

“Sounds perfect.” Steve replied happily. “I'll see you then.” 

Bucky watched him go, no doubt with a goofy smile on his face. When Steve was gone, Bucky straightened up and looked at Paul. “Shall we close up then?” 

“Aaand they caaaalled it puppy looooove.” Danny sang suddenly, swaying over to Bucky and Paul. “Just because we're in our teeeeens.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bucky mumbled, blushing furiously. 

“Never. You've been giving us shit all day.” Paul stated before loudly continuing on the song with Danny.

“Fuck you both.”

*

“What do you want for your birthday?” 

“My birthday isn't for three months. Why are you worrying about it now?” Bucky looked at Natasha in amusement. 

She put her fork down and sighed. “I just want to be prepared this year. I fucked it up last year because I left it too late. Got you that god forsaken book that you got for Christmas the year before.” 

Bucky laughed loudly as he remembered her crestfallen face that day. Bucky liked to open his birthday presents in his bedroom, first thing in the morning. He'd invited a few friends and family members around to his old flat for breakfast and presents. They'd all crowded into his room, perched on his bed and drawers. When Bucky had opened Nat's present, he'd had to fake being excited and happy over it. Even though the same book was sitting on his bookshelf directly behind her. It wasn't until she'd made a point of putting it on the case for him that she'd seen it and started freaking out. 

“I wouldn't worry about it, Nat. Just get me that book again and I'll be set.” Bucky grinned, scraping up the last of his rice. 

“Seriously, Bucky. What do you want?” Natasha asked angrily, standing up and taking her bowl to the sink. 

“Um… A playstation.” 

“Too expensive.” 

“A speaker.” 

“A what?” Natasha looked over her shoulder at him in confusion. 

“A bluetooth speaker. So I can play my music while I'm in the shower and not have it sound all tinny.” Bucky said, handing her his own empty bowl. 

“Doable.” Natasha nodded slowly, running the water to clean the dishes. 

“Be back in a second.” Bucky muttered, rushing to his bedroom to grab a pen and some paper. He returned to the kitchen and sat down at their table, brushing a stray piece of rice to the floor. 

“You writing your reply?” 

“Yep.” 

_Dear Steve,_

_Of course I remember the bar. I can't believe we did that sometimes. I think about it all the time. If it really is an emergency, then I guess I can meet you there. If it's just some ploy to get me to see you then there'll be hell to pay._

_Love Greg_

“Read this. How does it sound?” Bucky asked, handing Nat the letter. 

She scanned it, nodding as she finished it and handed it back to him. “Sounds good. I mean, I wouldn't be sending it at all but do what you must.” 

“I think it's a good plan.” 

*

_Present day._

The week seemed to drag by for Bucky. He wasn't entirely sure how he managed to make it through, especially when Steve didn't come and see him at all. Bucky was half tempted to go to his work himself and say hi. When he voiced his concerns to Paul, however, he was told to just leave it. Steve had said he was busy after all. 

When Sunday finally rolled around, Bucky was on edge all day. He couldn't eat anything and kept wandering around the apartment, unable to settle down. He was so excited and nervous and almost threw up at one point when he thought about it too much. There was a small part of his mind, niggling away at him, that was convinced that Steve knew and was planning some elaborate revenge scheme. But Bucky brushed it off. There was no way Steve knew. He'd never seen Bucky's writing and the letters were still hidden beneath his mattress. 

Sam came over later in the afternoon, bringing coffee and donuts. They all sat in front of the TV, watching a random episode of Friends silently. Bucky was dying to know what was going on between the two of them. He hadn't seen Sam since last Sunday when he'd left wearing one of Bucky's t-shirts due to Nat still wearing his. Every time he tried to ask Natasha about it, she'd either change the subject, not reply at all or literally just walk away from him. It was infuriating. 

About a year beforehand, they'd had a night just like last weekend. They'd gotten drunk and slept together. Except that time they'd been really blasé about it. Making jokes and telling close friends. It had been a one night thing. Nothing more. But the fact that she wasn't talking about it this time, meant that it was most likely something else. 

“So, Sam, did you bring back my shirt that you borrowed last weekend?” Bucky asked casually. 

“Bucky.” Nat sighed, clearly not wanting to have this conversation. 

“What? It's my t-shirt that he borrowed without even asking. I want it back.” Bucky said simply, holding back the smile with great difficulty. 

“It's in the wash. I'll drop it round tomorrow.” Sam grunted out, determinedly staying as still as possible, as if it will help his situation. 

“Why did you have to borrow it again? You spilt beers on yours right?” Bucky asked thoughtfully. “Oh no, Natasha was wearing it. That's right. She was wearing it because you spent the night in her room.” 

“Bucky, I swear to god.” Natasha snapped, glaring at him. 

“Now, when I went to bed that night, I thought Sam would have been crashing on your couch like he always did. But, now I'm wondering, what could have transpired that would mean Sam's shirt was no longer on him, but instead available for anyone to wear.” 

“Okay! That's it!” Natasha yelled suddenly, standing up to glare at Bucky furiously. “We had sex! Okay, Bucky? Is that what you wanted to know?! We got drunk, stupidly had sex, and now we don't know what's going on. So thank you, Bucky. Thank you for bringing it out into the open for us.” 

“But I-” 

“Nope. Fuck you. Good luck with your fucking date.” She snarled before storming off to her room. 

“Sorry.” Bucky mumbled when Sam got up and followed her. 

“Don't worry about it.” Sam sighed. 

Bucky sat on his own for a moment, not even paying attention to what was happening on Friends. In the end, he switched it off and went to his room. He spent the next hour picking what to wear, constantly changing his mind on whether he should tie his hair up or not. He finally settled on something casual. Dark jeans with his new jacket over a plain white t-shirt. His hair was down and he looked relatively okay. 

Sam came in a half hour later to say he was leaving and that he should apologise to Nat. Bucky mumbled a goodbye in reply, not looking away from his book. When he was certain Sam had left their apartment, Bucky got up with a groan and went and knocked on her door. 

“Nat?” 

“Come in.” 

Bucky pushed open the door, feeling extremely guilty. “I'm sorry, Nat. I didn't mean to upset you like that. I didn't realise it was something serious. I just thought it was a drunken night. Like last time.” 

“It's okay. You didn't know.” She mumbled. She was sitting on her couch with a book, looking at Bucky sadly. 

“So, did you guys talk?” Bucky asked, coming and sitting down. 

“Yeah. He uh, he doesn't want to get into anything yet. He only found out yesterday, but he's been offered a full time job back in New York and he's thinking of taking it. Don't tell him I told you though.” 

“Fuck.” Bucky breathed, relaxing into the couch as he tried to imagine it. Having your best friend go away for six months was one thing, but permanently was a whole other ball game and Bucky didn't like the idea of losing Sam like that at all. 

“It wasn't until he said that he might be moving away permanently that I realized how much I love him.” Natasha said quietly. Bucky didn't know what to say so he just pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly as she started to cry. After a couple of minutes she pulled away, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Sorry.” 

“Don't be sorry.” 

“I don't want to get you all snotty. You look nice, Bucky.” She gave him a watery smile. 

“Thanks. Hey, I can cancel if you want? I'll stay here with you tonight. We can watch a movie and eat junk food.” Bucky asked, the nerves in him jumping for joy over the prospect of cancelling his date. 

“No. No, I'll be fine. I'm going to see my parents anyway. You go on your date.” 

“Only if you're sure.” Bucky said slowly. He glanced down at his watch and swore. “I should get going. Are you sure you'll be okay?” 

“Yes. Bucky, honestly. I'm fine.” Nat smiled at him. More certain and happy. “Thank you though. I appreciate it.” 

Bucky reluctantly left Natasha in her room to get his wallet and keys. He was almost going to be late now. He dashed out the front door, telling Nat to feel better soon, and he was off. Driving across town to get to the bar Steve had described. He was incredibly nervous. He knew Steve would be upset that Greg didn't show up. If either of them weren't as stupid as they were, they would have thought to grab each others number. But unfortunately they were, therefore neither of them could cancel without it looking like being stood up. 

When Bucky arrived, he felt sick. He spent ten minutes trying to find a park and ended up walking in late. It was a busy bar filled with what seemed like every type of person you could get. It took Bucky a minute to find Steve but eventually he did, defending his ownership of a booth in the corner. Bucky could see people eyeing him up. One person alone in a booth when groups could be sitting there. 

Bucky quickly squeezed himself between the masses and finally he was sitting down in front of Steve with an apologetic smile on his face. “I am so sorry. Nat was upset about something so I left late and then parking was a nightmare. Had to park down the road.” 

“That's okay.” Steve smiled. “Nat okay?” 

“Yeah, just boy troubles. You know how it is.” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“I do know. All too well.” Steve's face fell. 

“You okay?” Bucky asked hesitantly, unsure if he wanted to go down this road. 

“Yeah, it's just- no. We're on a date. I don't need to bring this shit up.” Steve shook his head and smiled at Bucky unconvincingly. “How was your day?” 

“My day was fine. Tell me about yours. What's happened? You're clearly upset.” Bucky found himself saying before he could stop himself. He knew he was the cause of Steve's pain and he had to put it right somehow. 

“Well, okay, this is kind of heavy shit for a first date but there's this guy I used to date. We were dating in secret for a couple of years and it was fine but then I made a huge mistake in the heat of the moment and it ended the relationship…” Steve trailed off. “Anyway. That was a year ago. So a few weeks ago I decided to send him a letter to see how he was going and that kind of shit and he just wouldn't have any of it. Like, I know I made a mistake and shit but forgive and forget, you know?” 

“I take it that's the friend you were supposed to meet tonight?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, sorry. I don't have feelings for him or anything I just needed to see him and let him know how sorry I am.” Steve sighed heavily. 

“So, how did it go?” Bucky asked brightly, hoping like hell he seemed convincing. 

“He didn't show.” Steve said glumly. 

“Oh, I'm sorry.” Bucky frowned. “Maybe I can cheer you up?” 

“Maybe.” Steve sighed, reaching into his pocket. “Look, this is the last letter he wrote.” 

Bucky's stomach was in complete turmoil. He was on the verge of throwing up or being found out or both. He pushed it all aside, focusing instead on his acting skills. Steve unfolded the letter and looked it over, glaring at it angrily. 

“Sorry. This isn't the right one. This is the draft I found in your trash can.” Steve set the letter down on the table and reached down to his pocket again but came up empty. “I guess yours are the only ones I have.” 

Bucky froze. This was not what he had expected at all. Deep down he had been convinced that there was no way Steve would find out on his own. That Bucky would eventually tell him himself one day. He couldn't believe he didn't think about the fucking drafts in his trash can. How could he have forgotten that? Bucky felt awful. He was silent for a moment, shrinking under Steve's angry glare. 

“I don't know what to say…” 

“Why don't you start with an apology?” Steve snapped angrily, shoving the letter towards Bucky. 

“Steve you have no idea just how sorry I am.” Bucky blurted out, mentally kicking himself for that not being the first thing he said. Why was he such an asshole?

“What is it with guys I meet at the bank?” Steve groaned and sat back, staring at a group of people laughing loudly nearby. 

“Wait, what do you mean?” 

“I met Greg at the bank. Isn't that where you met him?” Steve's eyes snapped to Bucky's confused face. 

“I-”

“You and him are best buddies because you worked at the bank together, right? You did this all yourself, laughing at me behind my back for falling for you?” Steve grumbled. 

Bucky's heart fell. He would have preferred Steve had guessed the actual truth. He still thought he had a way to contact Greg and it was worse than the truth. Bucky didn't want to hurt Steve. He really didn't. Despite it all, he still had a whopping great big crush on him. More than a crush. 

“Steve...” Bucky said weakly. How the fuck did he end up here? “Steve, I've never met Greg in my life. N-Nat and I were drunk the night we got your letter and she opened it and we- we got angry over what you did and Nat convinced me to reply to your letter…” 

Steve's face fell as he processed Bucky's words. “So… Greg never sent me anything?” 

“No… I'm so sorry, Steve.” Bucky whispered. 

“Explain the rest of the letters then.” 

“When we got your reply to our letter, I remembered everything and I felt so terrible and guilty and… I was kind of messed up over it. I felt bad for how I know I would have made you feel and- I knew you weren't a bad guy. You'd just made a mistake and I wanted to make things right...” 

“You mean you wanted to clear your conscience?” Steve scoffed. “Who does that? Who writes to someone and pretends to be someone else? Who the fuck opens mail that isn't for them?”

Bucky snapped. “I could say the same for you. Writing to clear your own god damn conscience. And who the fuck outs someone to their parents?! Assholes, that's who. There was no address or anything, Steve. You hand delivered it with no way of finding out who it was from without opening it. What else were we supposed to do?”

“Do what you and Nat lied about doing? Give it to reception for her to find Greg's contact details? You still don't open someone else's mail, dick wad.” Steve snarled, getting up abruptly. “Goodbye, Bucky.” 

Before Bucky could stop him, Steve was walking out of the bar and out of his life. Bucky stared at the doorway, hoping like hell that he'd walk back in. But he didn't. Bucky was left to sit in the booth with the draft letter and his misery.


	5. The End

_One week later._

Bucky was an asshole. In the week and one day since he'd last seen Steve, he had come to accept that he was an asshole. Only an asshole would do what Bucky had done. Only an asshole would think he could coast through it, lying and hiding behind fake smiles and words that didn't mean anything. 

The Monday following their date, if it could even be called that, Steve hadn't shown up to deposit the cash. Instead, his boss had arrived in a flurry of grumbles about useless staff and waving wads of cash about. Evidently, Steve had called in sick to avoid seeing Bucky. 

Bucky had been expecting it. If he were Steve, he would probably avoid himself as well. It had taken everything in him not to go and see him at work. Not to go into town and beg for forgiveness on the floor of the bookshop. He had no idea what Steve would say if Bucky did that. He didn't say he never wanted to see Bucky again, but his goodbye as he'd departed their booth that night had seemed very final. Bucky figured it would be good to give him time to cool off. And time for Bucky to think of a decent apology that conveyed just how shit he felt. 

“God, today is just dragging by.” Bucky groaned, on his break in the staffroom. One of the execs was in there with him, reading something on their phone. 

She looked up at Bucky before looking around to see if he was talking to anyone else. There was no one else in there so she let out a sigh and mumbled an agreement before returning to her phone. The executives that spent all their time in their offices, arriving at ten and leaving at three, never really socialised with the floor workers. It was only Bucky, Danny and Paul that worked out the front but it was still shit. The least they could do was greet them occasionally. 

Bucky watched her for a moment before letting out another groan and getting up. He took his dishes to the sink, methodically washing them as he tried to figure out whether Steve would be coming in this afternoon or not. When he had finished, he returned to his station and served the few customers that came in in the afternoon. 

“Hey, Bucky. Guess what day it is?” 

“Monday.” Bucky muttered, staring glumly at a couple sitting outside the cafe across the street. 

“Exactly. So lighten the fuck up. Your boy is coming in like ten minutes.” 

“He's not my boy.” Bucky muttered. He hadn't told Danny or Paul anything about the letters or what had gone down on his date. He'd simply told them not to ask about it. They had kind of figured it hadn't gone well but Bucky hadn't elaborated at all. 

“Okay, are you going to tell me what the fuck happened? I thought you were all good after the party. What happened on that god damn date?” Paul asked angrily, grabbing his shoulders and turning Bucky to face him. 

“A few weeks ago, Nat and I got a love letter for the guy that used to live in our apartment. Drunkenly, we replied to it. We got a reply when we were sober and I felt bad so I kept writing back, trying to get him to stop writing. It got out of hand. Then, I found out that the guy that wrote the letter was Steve. Steve found out and confronted me on our 'date', walked out and I haven't seen him since.” 

“Fuck.”

“Yep.” Bucky shrugged, turning back to face the front. 

Paul glanced around to make sure there were no customers before calling to Danny. “Bucky broke Steve's heart.”

“Seriously, Bucky? You're supposed to be one of the good guys.” Danny shook her head in amusement, unaware of how fucked it all was. 

“Well, apparently I'm not. I'm an asshole.” Bucky smiled at her sarcastically before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I dont want to talk about it, okay? I have accepted that I am an asshole and I'm trying to move on.” 

“Too right you're an asshole.” 

Bucky's eyes opened to see Steve standing at Danny's counter, not even looking at Bucky as he handed over the cash. Danny looked extremely uncomfortable suddenly. Bucky, on the other hand, was overcome with grief. Grief over what never was. What could have been. He couldn't give up entirely, could he? He had to at least make some attempt at getting Steve to forgive him. Whether it ended with them going on another date or just moving on, Bucky didn't care. He knew what he'd prefer but he'd take anything over the icy glares and uncomfortable silences. 

“Steve, can I-”

“Nope.” Steve shook his head, still not looking at Bucky. 

“But I-”

“No.” Steve started walking away, his job done. 

Bucky couldn't stop himself. He walked out from his counter and followed Steve out. “Steve, please! Just- listen to me.” 

Steve stopped walking and turned around to face Bucky. “Nothing you say can make this right, Buck. Just leave me alone. Please.” 

Bucky watched Steve walk away, feeling bereft and stupid. He watched until Steve was out of sight before returning to work, closing up silently with the others. When he got home that night, he had to force himself to perk up for Nat. Sam had gone to New York for a week to sort things out and she was incredibly upset. Bucky was pretty damn upset as well, losing one of his best friends to another city, but Nat seemed to need the cheering up more than he did. 

Bucky failed. 

He couldn't bring himself to make jokes or smile or laugh. Instead, they ordered pizza and watched Friends all night long, gorging themselves on ice cream, chocolate and popcorn. By the end of it all, they both felt sick and worse than they had before. The two of them staggered off to bed just after midnight, miserable with themselves. 

*

_Two weeks later._

Bucky was growing more and more upset with himself. It had been one week since he'd seen Steve, two weeks since the night at the bar, and it seemed to be getting harder and harder to forget about him. The first few days after Steve called him an asshole, all Bucky could think about was how angry Steve had looked. As Monday rolled around again, all Bucky could think about was what he was going to say when Steve came in. 

But Bucky shouldn't have worried. Steve didn't say a word to Bucky. He didn't even look at him. Refused to when Bucky called out to him, walking over to him at Danny's desk. Steve thanked her and walked out without looking back; Bucky red in the face and looking like a fool. 

Bucky had returned to his desk, muttering under his breath, before deciding to just leave. He didn't even tell the others what he was doing. He just went to the staffroom, grabbed his shit and left. He drove up the road feeling completely torn over what to do. He passed Steve walking back to work and almost pulled over to talk to him. But he felt that it might be a bit too much. 

“You just have to accept the facts, Bucky. You fucked up. You lucked out. Move on.” 

Those were Nat's words of advice when he got home and complained. Bucky found himself refusing to accept it. How could he move on when Steve had to come into work every week? Bucky couldn't even bring himself to throw away all the letters. He liked looking at Steve's handwriting. Except it was messed up because they were letters to Greg. 

Bucky was currently in his bedroom, lying on his floor with the letters lying around him. He'd pulled them out from under his mattress and gone through them, groaning every time he felt a new wave of guilt wash over him. As Bucky lay there, he had an idea. The tide was coming in heavily and he was determined not to let this new wave get to him. Bucky jumped up and grabbed his pen and paper, pausing to let the head rush pass. He sat down and started writing.

_Dear Steve,_

_I know I'm the last person you want to hear from probably but I miss you. It's been two weeks and not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I miss your hair and I miss your smile and I miss your beautiful eyes. I miss our Monday talks at the end of the day, making it all worth it. I know I did a terrible thing and I regret it like fuck but you have to understand that I never wanted to hurt you._

_That night when Nat started reading the letter, I was drunk and I wasn't thinking straight. I was thinking of Greg being disowned. But… I was stupid. If I had known that you were the one writing the letters, I would have told you straight away. I never would have written back. I shouldn't have. I made a mistake._

_Steve, I know I well and truly fucked up, but if you could find it in your heart to forgive me then please write back to me at Apartment 263, 13 Caribbean Drive._

_All my love and more,_

_Bucky._

Bucky read it through over and over, matching it to Steve's first letter to Greg, hoping like hell it would work. He didn't think he could do anything more so he folded it up and slipped it into his pocket, grabbing his jacket and keys to go and post it. He just needed to get envelopes first.

“Where are you going?” Nat called as he walked past her in the living room. 

“Out.” Bucky grunted. “Want me to grab anything for dinner?” 

“Uh, get something for dessert. Ice cream or something.” She said slowly. 

“Any flavour?” Bucky paused at the door. 

“Cookie dough.” 

“Got it. I'll be back later.” Bucky sighed, opening the door and shutting it behind him. 

Bucky went to the supermarket first, grabbing a pack of envelopes along with the ice cream and a pack of beer. He was on autopilot. He wasn't thinking properly, was barely watching where he was going, as he went through the check out. He pulled his phone out as he left the store, staring intently at the snap from Sam. He was on a boat in front of the Statue of Liberty with a stupid dog filter on. 

“Oh, fuck. Shit.” Bucky grunted as he walked into someone, dropping his phone to the ground, most definitely cracking. 

“Watch where you're going, jerk off.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes as he picked up his phone, the culprit already walking away from him. Bucky looked back to see a burly figure lumbering inside. He had at least a foot and five pounds on Bucky so he decided to leave it. Even if his phone had a huge crack across the screen now. He had insurance anyway. 

On his way home, he stopped by Steve's apartment. He hadn't actually been there before but after all the letters, he knew the address off by heart and roughly knew where it was. Bucky got out of the car, letter in hand, and walked nervously into the building and up to the letter boxes. He found Steve's and slipped the letter in, feeling regret hit him the second it was out of reach. 

“Fuck.” Bucky sighed. He stared miserably at the small opening for mail before returning to his car. He passed someone looking at him weirdly on his way back and when Bucky was outside, he looked back in to see the girl at Steve's letter box, opening it up. Bucky swore again and got in his car as fast as possible, speeding off before Steve could look out a window and see him. 

“You took your fucking time.” Were Nat's first words when Bucky walked in the door. She was sitting at the dining table eating two minute noodles while on her phone, looking up at him curiously as he walked in.

“Sorry.” Bucky muttered, placing the shopping bag on the counter. He emptied it out mindlessly, feeling the panic in him continue to build. What if Steve had read the letter now? What if he'd thrown it out? Why the fuck did Bucky write a god damn letter?!

“Where'd you go?”

“Nowhere.” 

“Then why'd it take so- what was that?” Natasha jumped up and came up behind Bucky, too fast for him. She snatched the open packet of envelopes and stared at them in dismay. “I can't believe you, Bucky. He clearly doesn't want to talk to you. You're just going to drive him away even more.” 

“I had to! Okay? I didn't know what else to do.” Bucky cried, desperate to prove he wasn't desperate and blind.

“What did you say to him?” 

“I mimicked the first letter he sent Greg. I mean, when you think about it, what I did isn't nearly as bad as what he did. Right? He still thought he had a chance of forgiveness so maybe I have a chance.” Bucky said thoughtfully, taking the envelopes back from Nat. 

“Yeah, after a fucking year. Not two weeks, Buck.” Natasha shook her head and sat back down. “Couldn't be bothered cooking tonight so you can just have whatever. We have a lot of leftovers in the freezer anyway.” 

“Thanks.” Bucky sighed, shoving the envelopes on top of the fridge, out of sight and out of mind. He passed Nat a beer and opened one for himself, not feeling hungry at all. He probably shouldn't be drinking on an empty stomach but they didn't have enough alcohol in the apartment for him to get properly drunk anyway. He'd be fine. 

*

_Three weeks later._

“Bucky…? BUCKY!” 

“What?! I'm in the fucking bathroom, Nat. Jesus christ.” Bucky yelled back. He finished up his business before going out into the living room where Nat was looking through the mail. 

“He wrote back.” She said, not looking up at him. 

“What?!” Bucky snatched the letter out of her hands and confirmed that it was Steve's handwriting on the envelope. 

“What does it say?” 

“Does it look like I've opened it yet?” Bucky looked at her incredulously. 

“Well fucking open it and read it then, dick.” Nat looked back at him with a smirk on her face. 

Bucky hesitated. He was nervous as to what he would find. That day when Steve had come in, he'd ignored Bucky, once again. By then he definitely will have read the letter and even have sent the reply. If he was still ignoring Bucky then it can't have been a good sign. 

“Just open it. No amount of waiting is going to change what it says.” Natasha sighed, more softly this time. 

Bucky nodded and with shaking hands, opened the envelope and slid out the letter out. He scanned it and felt a weird sense of relief and fear go through him. He wordlessly handed it to Nat where she read it aloud, as if Bucky hadn't just read it himself. 

“Bucky, I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about you over these past days. I think about what you did… It hurts to think… You shouldn't- Bucky, this is an exact replica of our first reply to Steve's letter.” Nat looked up at him. 

“I know.” Bucky said uncertainly. “I don't know whether it's a good thing or a bad thing though...”

“Well, it has to be good, right?” 

“Think about how the letters ended though, Nat. With me ending it completely and him finding out.” 

“But Bucky, if this was going down the same road, why would he even bother to reply to the letters? Why would he go through all of this again?” Nat raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I don't know!” Bucky groaned, falling down onto the couch. “To hurt me?” 

“He's not that kind of guy, Bucky.” Nat said slowly, sitting down next to him. 

“How would you know? You've met him once when you were half drunk.” Bucky grumbled, looking away from her sympathetic face. 

“Because I spoke- to him. On Tuesday…” 

Bucky looked around at her in shock. “What?”

“After I we had lunch together I- went to his work instead of home.”

“Well what did you say?” Bucky demanded, wanting to know whether he should be angry or not. 

“I asked him what it would take to get him to forgive you because I was sick of seeing your miserable face.” Nat said firmly. “He said he didn't know. I said you had- that-”

“What?” Bucky snapped. 

“YoufoundGreg.”

“I'm sorry, what the fuck did you just say?” 

“I told him you found Greg for him.” Nat said carefully. “He still wants to see Greg and apologise.”

“Okay, so what happens when he finds out that I didn't actually find Greg and that I don't know where he is?” Bucky asked as calmly as possible, needing all the information before he could lose it. 

“I found Greg. I asked the receptionist and she gave me his forwarding address.” 

“Explain!” Bucky spluttered.

“Okay, so I went and saw Greg. I told him about the letters and he laughed and said he'd go and see Steve. He said he'd say that you sent him. When I saw Steve, he seemed pretty upset over things, Bucky. He misses you. I can tell.” 

“No. Don't try and make this better by saying shit like that.” Bucky shook his head. “I can't believe you. What if Greg doesn't go? What if he doesn't say I sent him? What if he tells him the truth and Steve thinks I did all this shit to try and get him back?!” 

“That's not going to happen, Bucky.” Nat said adamantly. 

“How do you know?” Bucky snapped. Nat just stared at him, her mouth flapping uselessly. “You don't! Do you! You just-”

“Write back to him.” Nat cut over him. “Write back and mimic his letter.” 

“You've got to be joking.” Bucky laughed without humour. He felt like he was going insane. He couldn't believe Nat had done this. It was not like her at all and behind all his anger, he was genuinely concerned for her. 

“Bucky, I'm serious. If he's playing along with the letters, then it's a good sign. He's not ignoring you and he's not-”

“He ignored me at work today. What does that tell you?” Bucky asked, standing up to start pacing about the living room. 

“That- that he's playing along really well?” Natasha said weakly. 

Bucky scowled at her and stalked off into the kitchen, wrenching open the fridge to grab a beer. He leaned against the counter as he contemplated what to do. As crazy as Nat was acting, it would make sense to keep writing the letter. As far as Steve knew, Bucky had already organised this shit with Greg when he sent the letter. It would make sense to continue on. 

“Bucky? I really think you should-” 

“Yeah, I know. I'm going to.” Bucky snapped at her as she walked into the kitchen. He could always just go straight to Steve and tell him the truth. He didn't want to be caught out in another lie. No way would Steve forgive him if he found out. Bucky sighed and walked past Nat, not even looking at her as he went to his bedroom to grab some paper and a pen to start the next letter. 

He couldn't lie to Steve again. He had to be honest. 

_Dear Steve,_

_I was going to go along and write the same letter you wrote to 'Greg' but I can't lie to you again. Natasha was the one who found Greg. She only just told me that she saw you. She told Greg to tell you I found him. She's going through some shit with Sam at the moment so I'm not entirely sure what was going through her head but I just didn't want to get caught up in another lie._

_I don't know whether Nat told him to say he'd forgive you or what's happening there at all but I just want you to know that it wasn't me. I've been trying to give you space and let you deal with this the way you wanted to but I didn't want to stop talking to you. That's why I sent you that letter. I just want to make sure you're okay, Steve._

_Bucky._

Bucky stared at the letter. Reading it through over and over again. He had so much doubt in his mind that none of this would work. That sending this letter would well and truly fuck everything up. Bucky almost screwed up the letter entirely but decided to sleep on it. 

*

“You're quiet today.” 

“Am I?” Bucky muttered, continuing to stare out the front doors. They'd just dealt with a load of customers, most of them stressful, and as soon as they had a moment, Danny had gone on her break. Paul and Bucky were left to stand around and serve the few customers. 

“How's Natasha doing?” Paul asked, knowing exactly what had gone down thanks to Danny blabbing after Nat had spoken to her. 

“Fine. She- she may or may not have fucked things up for me but I'm gonna put things right.” Bucky said firmly, trying to convince himself that his plan was going to work. 

“What'd she do?” 

Bucky told him about the argument and gave him the letter Bucky was going to give to Steve on his lunch break. Or at least, give to his boss to give to him. When Paul read it, he seemed pretty happy with it which gave Bucky an immense amount of relief. 

His lunch hour finally rolled around so Bucky grabbed his things and left, making the ten minute walk up to the bookshop. He could see Steve inside, serving a customer. His boss was nowhere in sight which Bucky was annoyed at. These letters weren't supposed to be given face to face. There was supposed to be a middle man. 

Bucky mentally slapped himself before walking inside, a little bell above the door ringing as he walked in. Steve glanced over the customers shoulder and he smiled for a split second before it disappeared. Bucky wasn't entirely sure he'd seen it at all. He loitered around the counter while he waited for Steve to finish serving the customer. 

“What do you want?” He asked as soon as the customer had left the shop. 

“To give you this.” Bucky held the letter out to him. 

Steve eyed it up, taking it from his hands slowly to look down at it. “That's not usually how letters work.” 

“I know but I just- I have to get back. I'll see you later.” Bucky mumbled, rushing out so he didn't have to witness Steve reading the letter. He arrived back at work feeling completely sick and was ready to go home. 

“Do you think Mike will let me go home early?” Bucky sighed. 

“Not after the stunt you pulled last week. Disappearing and leaving us to close up.” Paul tutted. 

“I'm still going to ask.” Bucky sighed, heading over to Mike's office. 

“Don't think you want to do that just yet, dude.” Paul said behind him. 

Bucky turned around and stumbled slightly at the sight of Steve standing in the doorway. “Steve. What are you doing here?” 

“I'm on my lunch break.” Steve said, the letter scrunched up in his hand. 

Bucky took a few steps closer to him. “What are you doing here though?” 

“Is this true?” Steve asked, gesturing to the letter. 

“Yes. I just- I didn't want to lie to you again. I needed you to know the truth.”

“I'm glad you did.” Steve said slowly. “I saw Greg yesterday...” 

“Really? How did that go?” Bucky asked, hesitantly coming out from behind the desk so there was just empty space between them. 

“He's moving to California tomorrow. Says he forgives me. That he doesn't blame me.” Steve said quietly. 

“That's good. I'm glad.” Bucky smiled weakly, unsure of where this was going. For all he knew, Steve could be here to tell him he never wants to speak to him again. Or worse, that he'd gotten back with Greg and was moving with him. “Please don't leave.” Bucky blurted out stupidly. 

“I wasn't- I wasn't going anywhere?” 

“I just- I thought maybe you'd come here to tell me you two had gotten back together or something.” Bucky mumbled, blushing as Steve took a step closer to him. Bucky was suddenly aware of a few customers in store, watching their encounter. He found he didn't actually care all that much. 

“No. He's engaged. I was just thinking that maybe we should just move on. Put all these letters behind us. Forget any of it happened.” Steve said, scrunching Bucky's letter up even more. 

Bucky's heart broke. So Steve didn't want anything to do with him. He wanted to move on and get on with his life. “That sounds best.” Bucky said miserably, unable to hide the pain on his face. He started to turn away but Steve stopped him. 

“Bucky, you big idiot. I want to move on… With you.” 

Bucky looked at him, a grin breaking out onto his face. “You mean that?” 

Steve nodded and suddenly there was no more space between them. Steve's arms were around Bucky and their lips were pressed together. Bucky's hands were on Steve's face, holding him close as joy seemed to surge between the two of them. 

Paul was suddenly whistling and whooping the two of them. Someone started clapping but no one joined in and suddenly Bucky felt extremely awkward. They ended the kiss and grinned at each other, breathing heavily as they looked into each others eyes. 

“What the fuck is going on out here?” 

Bucky looked around and almost shit himself at the look on Mike's face. “Uh- we- I was-”

“Making out with a man while you're supposed to be working?” He spat, his eyes darting around furiously. 

“Well, I'm still on my br-”

“It's disgusting! And the lack of professionalism!” 

“Oh my god. You did not just say that!” “Dad!” “Holy shit!” 

Everyone was yelling but all Bucky could do was keep a firm hold on Steve's arm as he tried to get to Mike. “Steve, it's fine. Just leave it.” 

“No way.” Steve grunted, shaking Bucky loose and marching up to Mike. “Who the fuck even says shit like that anymore? It's 2016 you fucking asshole.” Steve growled, punctuating the insult with a jab in Mike's chest.

“Don't you dare touch me.” He narrowed his eyes, shoving Steve backwards slightly. 

“Or what? Or what?! What are you gonna do about it?! You gonna hit a queer? In front of all your customers, your staff and your daughter?!” Steve yelled, puffing himself up and bumping his very big chest into Mike's skinny and weak one. Despite all the dramatics, Bucky couldn't stop himself from admiring the view. Mike's eyes darted around before he turned around and fled to his office, slamming the door loudly behind him. Steve let out a breath and turned around, looking at Bucky sheepishly. 

Paul let out a laugh suddenly and everyone looked at him. “Who would have thought. Old man Wheeler; a homophobe.” 

*

“Are you serious? Jesus christ.” 

“I know. I never would have expected it.” Bucky smiled into the phone, gripping it so tight that his knuckles were going white.

“So does that mean you're out of a job now?” Sam asked, his voice crackling through the speaker of the phone. 

“I'm not actually sure. I- ah. Fuck.” Bucky gasped, slapping Steve's hand away from his crotch. 

“What?” 

“Kicked the edge of my bed.” Bucky muttered. “But, Mike can't exactly fire me for that, can he? Like, I don't want to work there anymore but I'd rather leave on my own terms with a job lined up.” Bucky sighed, closing his eyes as Steve's tongue moved down his body. 

“There's an opening in New York if you're interested.” Sam said. 

“Oh yeah, I'd be great doing what you do. Whatever it is.” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“They're actually kind of desperate. The guy they were going to hire has cancelled on them last minute.” Sam said slowly, hinting that he knew something Bucky didn't. 

“What an asshole.” Bucky snorted. 

“Yeah, I kind of am.” 

Bucky sat upright suddenly, almost knocking Steve to the floor as he grinned. “Are you serious? You're not-”

“Don't talk too loud! I don't want Nat to know yet. I'm going to surprise her.” Sam said happily. 

“Sam, that's so great. I'm so glad.” Bucky flopped backwards onto his bed, lying on his back. Steve took advantage and straddled him, leaning down to kiss his neck. 

“Anyway, so what are you gonna do about your job?” 

“I- I don't know- Sam, I gotta go. I'll call you back.” Bucky stuttered as Steve started grinding in his lap, his hands running down Bucky's chest. 

“Oh, okay. I'll see you tomorrow.” 

“Bye.” Bucky hung up and threw his phone to the side, taking Steve by surprise when he grabbed him and flipped him over, Steve's arms pinned above his head. “All right, you little shit.” 

Steve started laughing, bucking his hips up to meet Bucky's. “What are you gonna do?” 

“I'm gonna show you why they call me Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so its done and im very thankful for that fact. idk what happened but i lost interest in this fic so im very sorry if the last chapter is awful and im also sorry for the wait. 
> 
> thank you to everyone who gave kudos, commented or just read it. i appreciate the validation <3
> 
> find me on tumblr [here](http://www.samoosifer.tumblr.com)


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